I’ll admit it. I didn’t always think of the Catskills as a place for me.
Living in New York for almost 20 years, I’d heard people talk about escaping to the mountains for cozy weekends and fall foliage, but I never pictured myself there. When I finally made the trip, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’d seen few faces that looked like mine in photos and wondered if I’d feel out of place.
But the moment I arrived, that hesitation faded. Everyone I met was warm and welcoming. I biked the Catskill Scenic Trail surrounded by golden leaves, rode a vintage train through postcard-perfect hills, and ended my days at a bed-and-breakfast that felt like home. It reminded me that peace can show up in the most unexpected corners — even when you’re not sure it will.
That feeling isn’t new to me. I’ve been to plenty of destinations where I had that same quiet pause, wondering if I’d feel safe, before realizing how much beauty, joy, and comfort were waiting on the other side. Here are five unexpected solo escapes where I experienced serenity as a Black woman.
Los Cabos, Mexico
I had always heard of Los Cabos as a destination for wild parties and spring breakers. But my stay at Hacienda Encantada Resort & Residences proved that it could also be a place for rest and reflection.
Perched above the Pacific Ocean, the resort’s Mexican architecture and colorful artwork instantly drew me in. My suite had two entrances to the balcony — one from the bedroom, one from the living room — and waking up to the ocean stretching endlessly below was unforgettable.
I spent my days moving at my own pace: morning coffee and mimosas at Mestizo while overlooking the Sea of Cortez, afternoon swims in the infinity pool, and quiet walks at sunset along the cliffs. There was nothing flashy about it — just the kind of stillness that helps you reset.
Samaná, Dominican Republic
Anytime the Dominican Republic comes up, most people I know talk about Punta Cana or Puerto Plata. But Samaná, a lush peninsula on the country’s northeastern coast, offers a quieter, slower pace that feels like a secret waiting to be discovered.
I split my stay between Wyndham Alltra Samaná, an all-ages resort tucked on a secluded beach, and Viva V Samaná by Wyndham, an adults-only property steps from the ocean. Both offered different ways to unwind. At Alltra, nights under the stars with fresh seafood and the sound of waves were unforgettable. At Viva V, spa treatments on the sand became a ritual of calm — listening to the ocean while receiving a massage felt like meditation in motion.
Samaná also has a strong African influence, visible in its music, dance, and local cuisine. People were friendly and inviting, the kind of warmth that makes traveling alone never feel lonely.
Albufeira, Portugal
I came to Albufeira for the Soca Wkndr festival, expecting energy and nonstop action, but what I found was a peaceful coastal town full of charm. Cobblestone streets led to quiet cafes, clifftop viewpoints framed the Atlantic sunset, and fresh seafood reminded me why the slower, smaller corners of Europe deserve attention.
This isn’t Lisbon or Porto. Albufeira’s calm, coastal rhythm made it easy to move solo, sip wine by the marina, and enjoy moments of reflection between festival sets. It’s part of Portugal’s Algarve region, known for its golden cliffs and turquoise waters. But what surprised me most was how safe it felt. I walked the streets alone at night and dined solo without hesitation, always feeling at ease. And it makes sense: Portugal ranks among the top 10 safest countries in the world.
Malta
Another soca festival brought me to Malta, an island nation in the Mediterranean I’d never imagined visiting solo. Beyond the music, I discovered tranquil pockets of peace. I wandered the golden streets of St. Paul’s Bay without fear, stopped in Bugibba for gelato, and took boat rides to Comino and Gozo, swimming in the Blue Lagoon’s crystal-clear waters.
Even in a country where the majority of its roughly 470,000 residents are white Europeans, I never felt out of place. I walked around freely and comfortably, without the second-guessing that can sometimes come with traveling while Black. That freedom, to simply exist and explore, is something I don’t ever take for granted.
Arizona, United States
The Grand Canyon had been on my list for years. One morning, I stopped waiting for company and just went.
Flying into Phoenix, I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t see many travelers who looked like me, but I never felt unwelcome. The drive north was long and quiet, the kind of silence that forces you to be present.
When I finally stood at the canyon’s edge, looking out over those endless layers of red and gold, I finally understood the meaning of having your breath taken away. Yes, the views were terrific, but the stillness was more powerful. It was a reminder that I belonged there, too.
Over time, I’ve learned that serenity isn’t always found in the most obvious places. Sometimes it’s in the slow mornings of Samaná, the cliffside breeze in Los Cabos or the mountain air of the Catskills. Each trip has reminded me that peace isn’t about escaping the world — it’s about finding your place in it.
