I’m a lone traveller

Driving down the motorway towards Heathrow airport, a suitcase of summer clothes in the boot, I felt flushed with that excited holiday feeling. That evening I’d relax in a hotel, then in the morning I’d be boarding a flight to Los Angeles for my annual US road trip. And I’d be doing it all, blissfully, alone.

It was back in 2008 when I first discovered the joys of holidaying by myself. I’d been competitively powerlifting for two years and I’d made it to the world championships, which were being held in Indiana. Even though I was heading over