I went on my first solo trip to Ladakh in India and this is what I learned.

A year ago, I relocated to Singapore with my family from the UK. Upon arriving in Asia, I decided it was time to fulfil my own version of an 'Eat, Pray, Love' journey—inspired by the film where Julia Roberts seeks self-discovery in Bali.

The idea of embarking on a solo trip had been on my mind for a while. Balancing work and family commitments made taking 8 or 9 days for myself seem impossible. Could I leave my kids? Would they be okay without me? Could I handle being alone for so long? Is it safe? Could I afford it?

The past few years, especially during the pandemic, highlighted life's fragility. One undeniable truth emerged: time waits for no one. Money can be earned, but time is finite. While I'm still relatively young and healthy, I felt compelled to explore the world.

With this resolve, I agreed to travel to the breath-taking region of Ladakh in India.

Upon arriving in Leh, the capital, I was immediately struck by its stunning natural beauty: rugged, snow-capped mountains, clear fresh air, and a pleasant 24 degrees Celsius climate—a refreshing change from Singapore's intense humidity.

I joined a group of 11 fellow travellers from Singapore, some of whom became close friends during my stay.

Here are a few of my personal highlights:

NATURE CONNECTION:

Ladakh's natural beauty took my breath away—snow-capped mountains, rugged terrain, crystal-clear blue lakes, and deep valleys welcomed me to this incredible place. The ancient Buddhist monasteries nestled among the Himalayan mountains added a deeply spiritual touch to the landscape, often referred to as Little Tibet or the Land of Lamas.

Right from day one, I felt a strong desire to disconnect from technology, put away my phone, and simply soak in the moment. But despite my intentions, I couldn't resist the urge to grab my camera and try to capture the essence of Ladakh. But few photos could really convey the raw, natural beauty of the place.

WI-FI was limited, so I took a break from social media, which was a refreshing change.

During my trip, I found myself spending more time than usual in nature. One morning: I witnessed the most spectacular sunrise. It left me with an overwhelming feeling that all is how it should be and filled me with deep gratitude that I was fortunate enough to be present in that very moment, in that very spot, during my lifetime.

SPIRITUAL CONNECTION:

As I grow older, my search for deeper meaning and purpose in life intensifies.

One early morning, we visited Thiksey Monastery, where I witnessed: about a hundred Buddhist monks chanting in unison, an ancient ritual. Among them were children as young as seven, engaged in prayer and humbly serving barley porridge and butter tea to their elders. The dedication and compassion I saw in them raised a question.

"How do children commit to this life?" I asked our tour guide.

"They are the chosen ones; it is an honour for them to walk this path," explained Monuca Arora, our trip organiser.

I too joined them in meditation—a whirlwind of thoughts swept through my mind: from mundane distractions like "what's that smell?" and "would anyone notice if I opened my eyes?" to reflecting on my physical discomfort (back aches) and self-perception (what is my true calling?).

 Though meditation remains a skill I am refining, I hoped some of what I was manifesting would come to fruition.

COMPASSION

Personally, Ladakh taught me important lessons about self compassion—something that resonated deeply throughout my journey.

Before going on this trip, I had been carrying a heavy burden of guilt. From the age of eleven, I have been the primary caregiver for my disabled sister and elderly mother, both of whom live in the UK. Last year, my family and I moved to Singapore, and recently, my sister was hospitalised because of ongoing and severe seizures. There have been moments when I feared losing her. The guilty feeling and occasional resentment towards my caring responsibilities has cast a shadow over my life.

I sought solace and healing in Ladakh, hoping this journey would provide some relief or clarity.

On my first day there, a stranger made a surprising comment about my compassionate energy, encouraging others to look out for me. I didn’t understand him but eventually his words made sense.

Self compassion is not only about extending kindness to others but also about showing compassion to myself. For so long, I have dedicated myself to being a good sister, daughter, mother, and wife, but on this trip I realised I deserve to treat myself with kindness.

HUMAN CONNECTION

I strongly believe in order to truly understand a place you must connect with its’ people.

During a visit to the village of Alchi, home to Ladakh's oldest monastery, I encountered local Ladakhi people for the first time. Walking through narrow market lanes, I stumbled upon a group of women sitting on the floor. The eldest woman invited me to join them for butter tea—a local delicacy. We laughed and shared stories as tourists passed by, my companions remarked– “we hope that man is single” or “Isn’t she beautiful” they called out a woman wearing a red sari.

This genuine connection with locals was a highlight for me, reminding me that true travel experiences come from interacting with people rather than just observing natural beauty.

FRIENDSHIP

This trip really took me out of my comfort zone – I was spending time with 11 strangers – what would that be like I wondered on the flight over from Singapore to Leh.

AND you can only imagine my trepidation when I was asked to share a room with a woman I’ve never met before.

What if I FART during the night was my first worry.

My worry didn’t last long as my roommate and I skipped the superficial chat and deep dived into why we had made this trip. This instant connection reminded me that sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways and invites the right people into your life at the right time.

It didn't stop there. I also connected with two other women, and before we knew it we were lost in girly conversations and fits of laughter. Amid the natural beauty and spiritual surroundings, I rediscovered my playful side, something I can hold back as it seems out of place or embarrassing for my children.

ALTITUDE

If you are planning a trip to Leh/Ladakh you must consider the altitude before you go.

Leh sits at 11,500 feet above sea level, and acclimatising was a challenge for some. Deep breathing, staying hydrated, eating light meals, and resting were crucial in adjusting to the altitude. Some travellers took prescription medication to aid acclimatization, while our resort provided oxygen tanks in every room as a precaution.

FINAL THOUGHTS

This trip was more than just a holiday; it was a personal journey of self-discovery and healing.

I allowed myself the rare gift of time away from my usual responsibilities. During those precious moments, I could meditate, eat, sleep, and laugh without constantly worrying about whether my children were okay, if they had eaten, or if they were bored of yet another mountain. In my heart, I knew my children wouldn't have fully appreciated the natural beauty as I did, and that realisation made my solo journey even more meaningful.

Looking ahead, I plan on returning to these stunning landscapes with my children when they are older. Right now, their interests revolve around Roblox, Minecraft, YouTube, football, and Fortnite—an ongoing source of frustration for me, but I understand it's part of their journey.

Back in Singapore the solo bug has bitten, and I am exploring my next adventure if time and money allows.

Written by Balvinder Sidhu

Award Winning TV Presenter/Reporter. Ex ITV News Central/GB News. Asian Woman of Achievement 2018, RTS Journalist of the Year.