From strangers to soul sisters: How my Contiki trip gave me more than just memories

I was terrified before this trip.

I’d never traveled solo before, and booking a Contiki trip felt like jumping off a cliff with zero idea if there’d be a parachute. I imagined awkward silences on the couch, trying to make small talk with people who’d all already be besties. I kept thinking, what if I don’t click with anyone? What if I spend 12 days feeling completely invisible?

But you know what? I didn’t. Not even a little.

Day one: Instant chaos, instant connection

From the moment I walked into the meetup spot, it was just… chaos. The best kind. People wheeling suitcases, laughing nervously, trying to remember names and countries. Within minutes, I was chatting to another solo girl from Canada, and suddenly, it didn’t feel so scary anymore. We were all in the same boat—new, unsure, hoping to find our people.

By the end of that day, I already had a little group. We were grabbing dinner, swapping Instagram handles, and joking about how we were going to cry when it ended. (Spoiler: we actually did.)

Budapest broke me—in the best way!

If I had to pick one core memory? Easy. That night in Budapest.

After a dreamy river cruise (I swear the city looks fake at night), a bunch of us ended up at this ruin bar that looked like someone dumped a thrift store into a fairy garden. We danced for hours—no phones, no pretending, just pure joy.

At one point we were all sitting outside on this rickety bench, legs tangled, laughing so hard I had actual tears. We shared stories—some light, some deep—and I just remember looking around and thinking, This. This is what it’s all about.

Things that scared me? Contiki took care of them

One thing I didn’t expect was how much easier everything felt. I’m usually the planner in my group at home, so not having to Google train schedules or stress about missing a bus was such a relief.

Our trip manager was honestly a legend. She made us feel safe, got us hyped for everything from Eiffel Tower sunsets to late-night pizza in Rome, and somehow remembered all our names by day two. It just made the whole experience feel held, if that makes sense?

Tiny moments that changed me

It wasn’t just the big stuff. Some of the most meaningful parts were quiet:

• Sitting in silence next to a girl I barely knew on the coach, watching the Alps roll by, and feeling so peaceful.
• Sharing hangover snacks and terrible stories in our Paris hotel room at 2am.
• Waking up early in Venice just to walk the empty streets and talk about life with someone who felt like a sister by then.

These little things made the trip feel personal. It wasn’t just a tour—it felt like a slice of life I’ll never get back, but I’ll always carry with me.

Would I do it again?

In a heartbeat.

Since coming home, I still talk to the girls I met almost daily. We have a group chat that’s equal parts memes, life updates, and “When’s our reunion trip??”

I signed up for Contiki hoping for a fun adventure. I got that—but I also got confidence. I got friends who saw the real me. I’ve got stories I still tell when I’m sad and need to remember that joy exists in the world.

So if you’re thinking about going solo? Do it. Scary doesn’t mean bad—it just means you’re about to grow.