How to Deal with the Unexpected (and Why Travel Helped Me Get Better at It)

There is no step-by-step guide for how life unfolds, and travel isn’t any different. When I first started traveling for myself, I planned everything down to the hour because I thought that was just how you were supposed to do it, like following a life blueprint for trips. And at the time, most of my trips were in places where I felt comfortable or had some kind of support. That might have been visiting friends or family, traveling with others, or being in a place where English was widely spoken. Because of that, I rarely had to deal with the unexpected while traveling.

So what do I mean by “the unexpected”?

The unexpected is that uncomfortable space between what you thought would happen and what’s actually happening. It’s that frozen, deer-in-the-headlights moment when reality doesn’t match the plan you had in mind and you’re left facing something you didn’t anticipate.

I used to think I could plan my way out of that space. I loved seeing all my research neatly laid out in a color-coded itinerary, confident that I’d move through each trip flawlessly. But even the most carefully planned itinerary couldn’t prevent things from going off track. And in those off track moments, I would freeze, standing there while a million “Oh god, what do I do now?! Should I do this?!” scenarios ran through my head.

But overtime, something started to shift. The more I encountered the unexpected, the easier it became to handle. Each experience helped me build a little more trust in myself, something I didn’t know I would need until I found myself truly on my own for the first time.

My First Solo Trip Gave Me a Reality Check

By the time I set off on my first real solo trip, I thought I had it all figured out. I had researched every stop, printed out all my tickets, and created a detailed itinerary to keep everything on track. I’m naturally organized, and planning a trip that flowed smoothly felt like a way to set myself up for success.

It was a multi-country journey through the Balkans, just me and a backpack, making my way across Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Montenegro during the month of August. With no safety net this time, I leaned on everything I had prepped in advance to carry me through.

But that trip threw me headfirst into the unexpected, again and again and again:

On the very first day, I missed a connecting flight in Spain for Croatia by 10 minutes.
By the time I arrived in Croatia, it was past 9 p.m. and I didn’t have any data. My accommodation was farther from the city center than I expected, and I started to worry I wouldn’t be able to find it. As a woman traveling alone, I felt uneasy asking strangers for directions on the street. To make things worse, I was carrying a backpack I hadn’t properly test-run before the trip, and it was wrecking my back. Those first 24 hours were rough, and I was already starting to feel overwhelmed.
A Flixbus ticket I bought online and printed for my trip to Plitvice National Park didn’t scan properly when the driver tried it. It caught me off guard because all my other printed tickets had worked just fine, and they were from the same source.
In Kotor, Montenegro, I didn’t realize until I arrived that the accommodation I booked was a 40-minute walk from the city center. The location itself was nice, but walking both ways in the summer heat was absolutely brutal.
One night at a hostel, I had a really pleasant evening chatting with the owner and a few other travelers. Everyone was heading out the next day, including me, so we stayed up late talking. I should have known better, but I ended up going to bed around 2 or 3 AM and was so exhausted that I forgot to set an alarm. I completely missed my 6 a.m. direct bus from Kotor, Montenegro back to Split, Croatia.
Right after missing that early bus and making a few detours, I ended up on a bus that broke down in the middle of nowhere in Croatia. I had no data, and everyone around me spoke a language I didn’t understand. It was one of those moments where I felt completely disconnected and unsure what to do next.
was new to buying SIM cards, and it turned out to be more complicated than I expected while crossing through three countries. Every time I entered a new one, I ran into connectivity issues again and again without fail.
On the way home, I was freaking out that I might get booted from my connecting flight because my carry-on was overweight and I didn’t have enough money to cover the fee. At that point, I had only $14 to my name.

And if I’m being honest, I’d dealt with hiccups on previous trips, but never this many packed into one trip. It felt like the universe had slipped a surprise challenge into every leg of the journey. I’m sure there were more I’ve blanked out by now, but those were definitely the standout moments from my crash course in solo travel. That trip pulled me out of the bubble where I believed that if everything was laid out neatly on paper, things would fall into place without a hitch.

I Didn’t Have All the Answers but I Kept Going

For a while, I used to think that if I mapped everything out neatly on paper, life would follow the script. My finalized itinerary looked great on paper: organized, polished, safe. But what I didn’t account for were the parts I couldn’t see coming. I never really planned for things not to work. I treated planning as a way to stay in control and my idea of preparedness didn’t leave much room for reality to step in and create detours.

Those unexpected detours during my travels led to conversations I wouldn’t have had, places I wouldn’t have seen, and versions of myself I wouldn’t have met. Letting go of control made room for curiosity. And over time, that curiosity helped me become more flexible. They pushed me out of my head and into the present. They reminded me that problem-solving doesn’t always start with answers. It starts with questions, with observing, with trusting yourself to figure it out piece by piece.

Because the truth is, you are never fully ready. Not in travel. Not in life. There is no final moment when you have everything figured out. But you can build trust. Trust in your gut, your choices, and your ability to adapt when things don’t go as planned.

You don’t have to know it all. You just have to take the next step.

And Somehow… It All Worked Out

Looking back, every one of those messy moments found a way to resolve because I stayed with it and adapted.

At the airport in Spain, I wandered around the terminal until I found a quiet, tucked-away spot where I could think. I pulled out my ticket, called the airline’s customer service, and within 10 minutes, everything was sorted. I didn’t even have to leave the terminal or go back through security.
In Croatia, I eventually found the accommodation. I was ridiculously proud of my offline navigation skills, but that only happened after I managed to load a partial map on Google Maps using a spotty public Wi‑Fi connection. I used the hostel’s location dot to slowly zero in on where I needed to go, and I was careful not to lose connection with that map once I left the Wi‑Fi area. From there, it was all about trusting the little blue dot and hoping I was heading the right way.
The Flixbus driver scanned my ticket a few times, paused, looked at me, then handed it back and gestured for me to get on board. I must have looked just stressed enough to earn a pass.
My biking skills were pretty rusty at the time. I had just taken a refresher learn-to-ride class the day I left, but it ended up being exactly what I needed. Biking saved me from all the long walks and cut my commute time in half.
Instead of freaking out about missing the bus, I got out of bed, washed up, and calmly got ready to head to the station. I already had the phone number for a local taxi service, so I didn’t have to walk all the way back. Once I arrived, I checked the schedule and, miraculously, there was a bus heading to Dubrovnik, Croatia. From there, I could transfer to another bus going to Split. I almost missed that last bus to Dubrovnik too, but in the end, I made it and was on my way.
The bus that broke down? I waited. I saw other tourists hop on different buses or try hitchhiking to get to their intended destination. But the locals stayed calm and chatted amongst themselves. A few were carrying packages labeled with addresses from other parts of Croatia, which made me think they probably knew a backup bus would come. I decided to stay put too, take in the scenery, and hope for the best. I was still quietly freaking out while I waited, but sure enough, a couple of hours later, another bus showed up and took us to where we needed to go.
The SIM card issue was something I never fully figured out on that trip. Every time I crossed into a new country, I ran into the same connectivity problems. Securing a SIM card was harder than I expected. Some kiosks didn’t sell them, and during local holidays, almost every place that usually carried them was closed. I didn’t resolve it by the end of the trip, but I took it as a lesson and made smarter choices on later trips.
And the airline agent who asked me to step aside because my bag was overweight? He ended up overriding the fee and let me on the flight. I think it helped that I stayed calm and respectful, especially compared to the passengers before and after me who argued with him. Patience and kindness go a long way, especially with people in customer service.

How That First Solo Trip Changed the Way I Travel

I’ve taken many more trips since then, both solo and with company. But that first solo trip was a major eye-opener in how I plan. It became a crash course in letting go and shifted the way I approached travel. I didn’t just move past the challenges; I learned from them. And it shows. My later trips had far fewer hiccups, and when things did go wrong, I handled them with less panic and more trust that things would work out.

In Laos, the train tickets from Vientiane to Luang Prabang were completely sold out on the day I had planned to move on to the next stop of my trip. With the help of the hotel reception, they managed to get me a ticket for the following day, extended my stay for one more night, and arranged a cab for me when it was time to leave.
In Thailand, I missed the last bus of the night after clearing immigration at the Laos–Thailand border. A group of travelers, some solo, others in pairs or small groups, had also just crossed and were trying to figure out what to do next. No one had a clear plan. Just outside the checkpoint, a woman was offering a private van service. I joined eight other travelers heading in the same direction, and we split the 3,500 baht cost for a van going to Chiang Rai.
In Japan, I accidentally showed up at the wrong accommodation after a long travel day from Tokyo to Kawaguchiko. By the time I arrived, I was horribly tired, battling a head cold, and it was already past 10 p.m. When I let the receptionist know I didn’t have a car, she called a cab for me and even gave me a snack while I waited.

The more I traveled, the more I started trusting myself to figure things out.

And I did.

None of it was smooth.

Sometimes it was stressful and overwhelming.

But I learned to let go of the need for immediate answers and started going with the flow. I didn’t need to have it all figured out. I just needed to stay calm enough to take the next step.

And that’s what made all the difference.

What Solo Travel Helped Me Discover About Myself

When I set out on that first solo backpacking trip, I just wanted to see the world and find out what solo travel with a backpack would be like. I didn’t go into it thinking I’d come out more resilient. But that’s exactly what happened.

Being on my own in unfamiliar places didn’t just teach me how to handle challenges. It taught me about myself. With no one else to lean on, I had to meet myself more honestly. I had to rely on the parts of me I usually kept in the background, and in doing that, I became a little more comfortable with who I was.

I didn’t become someone new. But I did start seeing my quiet strengths more clearly. Each unexpected challenge helped me uncover parts of myself I didn’t know were there. And maybe, if you’re navigating something uncertain in travel or in life, some of these might resonate with you too.

Mindset Shifts

Being calm under pressure turned out to be one of my strongest skills.
In the middle of missed buses, wrong turns, or last-minute changes, that calm helped me think clearly, even when I was quietly freaking out inside.
I’m more adaptable than I gave myself credit for.
I learned to stay flexible when things didn’t go as planned. Whether it was figuring out new transportation routes, adjusting to tech hiccups, or reshuffling plans on the spot, I kept going. I stayed with it and found the next best option, even when it wasn’t ideal.
I trusted my instincts and what I observed around me.
I started noticing how I naturally observed my surroundings first, scanning my environment, reading people’s body language, and picking up on subtle cues. It helped me understand when to stay still, when to act, and when to ask for help, even if I couldn’t always express it clearly. I didn’t always have a plan, but I could read the room. And that gave me a kind of steady confidence I didn’t know I had.
I discovered how naturally resourceful I could be.
When the usual options weren’t available, I got creative. I used spotty Wi-Fi to load just enough of a map, relied on facial expressions and hand gestures when I didn’t know the language, and paid attention to how locals did things so I could follow suit. I worked with what I had, and it was enough.
I accepted help even when it didn’t come naturally.
As someone who leans hyper-independent, I wasn’t used to reaching out or letting others assist me. But travel reminded me that receiving support is part of the journey too. It was hard at first, but the more I put myself out there, the easier it became to accept help from strangers. I was genuinely grateful for it because it made my life easier.
I kept moving, even without certainty.
That moment of feeling fully prepared never came. But I showed up anyway. I kept going, even without all the answers. And that was enough.
I saw how kindness could carry me farther than I expected.
I’ve always been a kind and patient person, but traveling solo helped me see what that could lead to. I made an effort to treat everyone with respect, from bus drivers to hotel staff to fellow travelers, and in return, I found myself on the receiving end of small, meaningful gestures. Whether it was a restaurant giving me a discount, an airline agent letting my overweight bag slide, or simply exchanging stories with strangers, those moments reminded me that kindness creates ease, even when everything else feels uncertain.

Solo travel didn’t change who I was. It revealed who I had been all along. It brought forward strengths I didn’t know I had or had simply forgotten. The moments I spent navigating unfamiliar places, making tough calls on my own, and staying grounded through uncertainty helped me meet parts of myself I hadn’t fully seen before. I didn’t come out of that trip fearless, but I did come out more self-assured. And that quiet confidence has followed me into every part of my life since.

From my Journey to Yours

You don’t grow through the perfect trips. You grow through the imperfect ones, when plans shift, obstacles pop up, and you still find a way forward.

What’s a time you embraced the unknown and came out better for it? Maybe it was a solo trip, a big life change, or just one of those moments where everything fell apart and you had to figure it out anyway. What helped you keep going?

Let it be messy. Let it be honest.

You might be surprised by how much you’ve grown when you look back.