By: Lena Hartman
Anne Abel’s 26-day solo trip to Australia was, on the surface, a pilgrimage for a lifelong fan of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. However, beneath the concerts, backstage encounters, and festival crowds, it was also a journey of introspection, resilience, and self-discovery. For someone who struggles with severe depression, has often found travel to be challenging, and has historically relied on the presence of others for stability, the trip was both daunting and potentially transformative.
Facing Loneliness Head-On
Despite the excitement of attending eight concerts in five cities, Abel found herself feeling increasingly lonely as the days went on. “Yes! As the days went on, I became more and more lonely,” she admits. Most of her interactions were transactional, limited to service staff at hotels or gyms. Even the occasional conversations with fans felt fleeting. Yet, Abel refused to let her solitude define the experience. “I would get up and go out, even just to the lobby, to watch people and get energy from them,” she explains. In these quieter moments of observation, Abel developed a coping strategy, learning to embrace the loneliness rather than resisting it, finding ways to draw some energy from the world around her.
Finding Routine in a Foreign Land
Though travel often disrupts routines—a particular challenge for Abel—the trip provided her an opportunity to create a new rhythm. Each morning began at 6 a.m., with breakfast accompanied by four newspapers: two American and two Australian. She would then dedicate hours to writing emails to twelve friends and family members who had requested updates on her journey. “I have severe writer’s block,” Abel explains, “but their asking me to write seemed to offer the green light I needed.” These morning writing sessions became a ritual, lasting two or three hours, blending reflections on the trip with broader personal insights.
After writing, Abel worked out, often visiting nearby fitness centers, and then spent the afternoons observing the world. People-watching became a meditative practice, allowing her to study human behavior, glean insights from casual interactions, and even enjoy the rare thrill of invisibility. “Sometimes I would sit shoulder-to-shoulder with Tom Morello or Max Weinberg while they were talking, and they didn’t blink or notice me,” she recalls. “I had no desire to sightsee; I preferred to ride local buses, go to supermarkets, or just hang out and see what people do.”
Transforming Adversity Into Focus
Not all days were easy. At one point, after a particularly hurtful conversation with her son, Abel found herself nearing a dark place. “I just dropped the phone and fell on my back on the bed. I could feel myself being drawn to the edge of the abyss.” Rather than succumbing, she redirected her focus, turning to a detailed study of Max Weinberg’s drumming techniques. “I read about him, his theory on drumming, and listened to his songs with my headset,” she says. This autodidactic deep dive lasted hours and helped her regain composure and momentum. It was a practice she repeated throughout the trip whenever she felt depression creeping back.
This approach—combining structure, intellectual engagement, and immersion in her passion—supported Abel in navigating the challenges of solo travel while managing her mental health. The trip demanded emotional discipline, but it also fostered independence and self-trust, reinforcing her ability to maintain stability even in isolation.
Writing as Therapy and Connection
Abel’s email correspondence became a crucial lifeline. Across the course of the trip, she wrote approximately 600 pages of emails to the twelve individuals following her journey. These messages were not just casual travel updates; they were a conduit for reflection, problem-solving, and introspection. “It wasn’t just about the trip,” she explains. “I was doing a lot of reading and a lot of thinking. I wrote about that too.” Writing became both a discipline and a therapeutic exercise, a way to process the experiences of each day, reconcile her emotions, and maintain a tether to her life back home.
Embracing the Ordinary in the Extraordinary
Interestingly, Abel’s joy often came not from spectacle but from ordinary experiences. A day spent at a local mall buying a scarf she had unsuccessfully sought in the United States felt like a triumph. The small, everyday pleasures—watching locals at work, sampling fresh fruit, navigating buses, observing interactions—provided her with a grounding counterbalance to the sensory overload of concert arenas and celebrity encounters. In embracing the ordinary, Abel discovered a profound sense of autonomy, reminding herself that adventure doesn’t always require grandeur.
The Intersection of Solitude and Courage
Abel’s story illustrates the duality of solo travel: the loneliness that tests the psyche and the courage that can grow from facing that solitude head-on. She confronted not only the vast, impersonal crowds of arenas but also the intimate, internal landscapes of anxiety, depression, and self-doubt. Each morning’s ritual, each bout of people-watching, and each focused study session contributed to an evolving sense of agency. By the end of the 26 days, Abel was not only physically distant from home but also emotionally and mentally more resilient, having cultivated her own strategies for navigating solitude and stress.
A Journey Beyond Geography
Ultimately, Abel’s journey to Australia was more than a pilgrimage for music; it was an odyssey of personal growth. Her courage in confronting loneliness, maintaining routine, and embracing both her passions and the mundane demonstrated a remarkable capacity for self-discipline and insight. “I began seeing myself a bit differently,” she reflects, acknowledging the transformative nature of her experience.
Anne Abel’s story reminds us that travel can be a mirror, reflecting both our vulnerabilities and our strengths. It suggests that personal growth often arises from discomfort, that resilience is cultivated through both action and reflection, and that even in the loneliest of circumstances, we can find connection, purpose, and empowerment. For Abel, Australia was not just a destination—it was a laboratory for life, a space to practice courage, and a proving ground for the human spirit.
