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Patrick Branwell Brontë: The Brontë Sisters

The National Portrait Gallery, London

Your Britain—Fight for It Now

The Imperial War Museum, London

William Hogarth: Marriage à la Mode: IV. The Countess’s Morning Levée

The National Gallery, London

View from All Souls College, with Spire of St. Mary’s Church and Dome of Radcliffe Camera

James Allen Shuffrey, BWS

The Golden Pheasant Hotel, Burford, Oxon.

Old English Pub Company

Brasenose College, Oxford, from the Bodleian Library

Chris Andrews Publications

Milano: Teatro alla Scala

Teatro alla Scala, Milan, Italy

Sorrento: View and Harbor

Interdipress

Venezia: Canal Grande—Ponte di Rialto

M. Romboni

Siena—il Palio

Plurigraf

Paolo Veronese (1628–88): La Moglie di Marcantonio Barbara e Nutrice. Stanza dell’Olimpo, Villa Di Maser

Villa Barbaro

A CONVERSATION WITH ALICE STEINBACH

Would you describe your book as a travel book or a memoir? Or both?

I would describe Without Reservations as a combination of both, a sort of travel memoir, if you will. But I really think of it this way: It’s the true story of a woman who decides to take a break from the routines of her daily life in order to see more clearly who she is when separated from all the labels—mother, journalist, ex-wife, single woman—that have come to define her. And she decides to do it by traveling alone in foreign countries, where, operating as an independent woman, she might learn something about who she has become over the last thirty years. That woman, of course, is me.

What were you hoping to learn from such an undertaking?

I think it was more that I was hoping to relearn certain things that were a part of me when I was younger. I wanted to relearn how to be spontaneous, to have more fun, to live in the moment, and to take chances. It’s easy to lose this sense of yourself as you become more obligated to family, work, and the demands of routines and responsibilities.

And were you successful in achieving these goals?

Yes, I was. Traveling—particularly traveling alone—forces you to be spontaneous and take chances. If you don’t, you’ll be lonely and bored. But I think the most valuable lesson I learned during my travels was this: Once all the old baggage and labels were discarded, I was able to respond more honestly to the world around me. It’s a rare person, I think, who knows what really pleases her in life and what does not. But traveling alone—if you’re willing to be open—can teach you what is essential to your true nature. Sometimes, you are surprised to find out what interests you. Who would have guessed, for instance, that I should find the architectural history of the Paris métro stops so fascinating? It’s become an ongoing interest of mine.

Did you ever get homesick or lonely?

Absolutely. Once, while walking alone on a cold, foggy night along a narrow street in Oxford, England, the sight of a woman’s ginger-colored cat greeting her at the front door—I’m a cat lover and had two of my own at the time—made me dissolve into tears. But I felt many things during my travels: challenged, homesick, exhilarated, lonely, happy, uncertain, self-confident. And I learned it’s quite natural to feel all those things; I just gave myself permission to have a bad day now and then, knowing it would pass. Not a bad lesson to bring home from such a trip!

Do you have any strategies for combating loneliness? How did you handle eating alone in restaurants, for instance?

Eating alone in restaurants, particularly at dinnertime, is one of the universal problems for the solo traveler. Breakfast and lunch are no problem. I usually take breakfast at the hotel where I’m staying—I hate starting the day by searching for a place to eat—and find it relaxing to have a leisurely breakfast at the hotel. It’s also a good time to meet other hotel guests, who are often more relaxed at that time of day. Unless I have plans to meet someone for dinner, I usually make lunch my main meal of the day. This is the time to try the restaurant you’ve heard about but don’t feel comfortable going to