I was able to spend hours wandering around the historic hotel to touch and photograph every little detail that thrilled me — like the scars on the brass railings of the grand staircase, a relic from the hotel's days as a U.S. Army base after WWII. This was when I came to the realisation that solo travel is actually perfect on the day you're supposed to matter the most. In my past holidays with boyfriends, family, or my squad, I've always taken it upon myself to be the "planner" of the group: I like to know that we'd be doing a certain number of things to satisfy everyone, and either no one else cared to put in the effort, or they simply had a different approach to travel. Now that I was alone, I didn't have to worry about adhering to someone's bedtime, annoying them with my Insta-posing, or their potential disinterest in things that I want to check off my list. That freedom was the ultimate birthday treat.