Dining Alone on Purpose: The Joy of Table-for-One Tourism
By Mikayla Hunt
There was a time—not that long ago—when I wouldn’t be caught dead eating alone in a restaurant. The thought of a waiter asking, “Just one today?” felt like a public shaming ritual, a spotlight on my perceived loneliness. I'd either mumble something about waiting for a friend (who, spoiler: never arrived) or default to takeout, scarfed down on the hotel bed while watching bad reality TV shows.
But somewhere between a solo trip and an accidental reservation for one, everything changed. I became a firm believer in table-for-one tourism—not because I had no one to eat with, but because I genuinely wanted to.
Dining alone while traveling has evolved from a reluctant compromise to one of my favorite ways to experience a place. It’s a deliberate act of presence, a quiet rebellion against the pressure to always be accompanied. It’s freedom served warm, with a side of fries.
The Solo Diner’s Glow-Up
Let’s get this straight: dining alone is not sad. It’s not pitiful. It’s not the emotional equivalent of sitting in the rain with a violin playing softly in the background. In fact, solo diners today are having a bit of a glow-up. There’s a growing appreciation for people who take themselves out with the same care and effort usually reserved for dates or group dinners.
And while there’s always been a certain romanticism attached to the lone café dweller—beret optional, espresso in hand—this trend is less about aesthetic and more about autonomy. When you eat alone while traveling, you're not just nourishing your body; you're feeding your curiosity, your courage, and your ability to be deeply, gloriously present.
Control the Vibe, Control the World
One of the best things about dining solo? The power of decision-making.
Want to eat dinner at 5:30 p.m. because you skipped lunch and are running on fumes? Do it. Want to linger for two hours over a tasting menu and people-watch the table of loud Americans next to you? Please do. You control the pace, the mood, and—crucially—the bill.
There’s no compromising on appetizers. No pretending you don’t want dessert because your dining companion gave a speech about cutting sugar. You want the crème brûlée and the molten chocolate cake? Order both. Who’s going to stop you? Not Karen from accounting—you didn’t invite her.
And when you’re traveling, the perks are even sweeter. You’re more likely to snag a seat at the bar at that popular restaurant with a six-week reservation waitlist. Bartenders tend to chat more. Chefs might even send out extras (true story: in Florence, I got a bonus cheese plate just for making polite conversation and not treating the staff like background noise).
But What Do You Do While Eating Alone?
Let’s address the elephant at the table. One of the biggest mental blocks to solo dining is the dreaded “what do I do with my hands” feeling. Without someone across from you, it’s easy to feel awkward or exposed. But here's the secret: nobody cares.
Sure, your server might double-check you really meant to book a table for one. Some passersby might glance your way—but not with judgment. With curiosity. With admiration. Maybe even envy.
Still feeling weird? Here are a few things to occupy yourself while waiting for your duck confit or ramen bowl:
Bring a book, but don’t feel obligated to read it.
Journal about your trip so far.
Take photos—but not of yourself every five seconds (live in the moment).
Listen to the surrounding conversation like it’s theater.
Strike up a polite conversation with the person next to you. You’re not invisible, just solo.
And if you do nothing but sip your wine and enjoy your meal in silence? That’s called mindfulness. Welcome to wellness.
Where Solo Dining Shines Brightest
Some cities are especially kind to table-for-one travelers. In Tokyo, counter seating is common, and solo meals are practically a cultural institution. Walk into any ramen shop or sushi bar and you’ll see people dining alone without a second thought. In Paris, café culture practically encourages it. Order a café crème and watch the world pass by from behind your sunglasses. It’s cinematic.
Even in places where communal dining is the norm, solo travelers are often welcomed warmly. You might be seated with a local family in Morocco or invited to join a group table in Vietnam. Dining alone doesn’t mean you’ll stay that way.
Want a few recommendations for great solo dining experiences?
Barcelona: Go tapas bar hopping and stand at the counter. No one expects conversation—just appreciation.
New York City: From dim sum in Chinatown to tasting menus in Midtown, solo diners are commonplace.
Rome: Sit in a piazza, order wine and cacio e pepe, and let the city romance you.
Seoul: Hit up a BBQ joint with solo-friendly setups, and grill your own meat like the boss you are.
The Inner Dialogue That Changes Everything
The first time you sit down at a white-tablecloth restaurant alone, it might feel like a social experiment. You’ll wonder if people are judging you. You might rehearse excuses in your head—"I’m just waiting for a friend" or “I’m a food blogger.” But the second time? You’ll realize something has shifted.
You start to enjoy the quiet. The ability to think. To taste. To reflect. To notice how your fork feels in your hand, how the sauce clings to the meat, how your brain lights up with each bite.
Solo dining teaches you to be your own best company. And once you learn that lesson, every meal—whether it’s a five-star dinner or street food wrapped in paper—becomes a love letter to yourself.
Table for One, Please
We travel to see the world—but we also travel to see ourselves differently in it. Dining alone strips away the social noise and lets you experience a destination in its purest form. You’re not performing for anyone. You’re not negotiating menus or moods. You are simply there, fork in hand, fully present.
So next time you're traveling and the question is posed—“Just one?”—smile and say yes.
Yes to the meal. Yes to the experience. Yes to yourself.