Why one travel writer thinks the hospitality and tourism industry needs to cater better to solo travellers, by Jessica Wynne Lockhart
It was Friday night, and I had a date with myself for the city’s hottest new rooftop bar. I envisioned sipping a cocktail or three, reflecting on the year that had just passed, and watching the sun set over the city.
Snagging a primo position would be no problem; in Auckland on a business trip, I was staying at the hotel the bar sits atop. When 5pm rolled around, I was first in line.
But all my illusions of the perfect table for one faded when the host uttered the words I fear most: “We’ll seat you at the bar.”
I eyed the rows of bottles behind the bartender, completely obscuring the view.
“Could I sit at a table?” I asked, looking around the entirely empty room.
He shook his head: “We save tables for couples.”
“I won’t stay long,” I petitioned, an argument that a couple would never have to make. A mini-conference was held with the manager. Again, the answer was no.
Up at the bar, servers skirted around me as I glowered into my overpriced drink; a drink priced for a view that I didn’t even have. The room filled and I watched the staff reconfigure tables for groups of all sizes, including seating couples at the bar.
“So, seats are reserved for couples — but there are no seats reserved for singles?” I thought.
It wasn’t an isolated incident in the world of solo travel. In airports, I’ve struggled to cram my luggage into tiny toilet stalls — a design flaw based on the assumption that everyone has a travel buddy to watch their bags while they go to the loo. Singles supplements can make travelling alone prohibitively expensive. And worst of all, virtually every new restaurant has jumped on the share plate trend — which is great for groups, not so much for individuals. Solo travellers are constantly reminded that we’re disruptive to the very structure of the hospitality and tourism industry.
“I hate when hosts ask if it’s ‘just’ for one,” says one Rotorua-based tourism industry expert. “It makes me feel like I’m less-than.”
Don’t get me wrong: In the world of travel, there are much greater injustices. Ageism, racism, and ableism continue to run rampant. But while we have practices intended to act as salves for those concerns (seniors discounts; diversity and inclusion policies), the same can’t be said for discrimination against solo travellers.
Businesses that fail to cater to solo travellers are also missing the mark — not to mention the money. In 2019, activity booking platform Klook surveyed 21,000 people from around the world and found that 76 per cent of respondents have either travelled alone or were considering doing it. The lucrative cohort is only continuing to grow, a trend that researchers attribute to an increase in single-person households. (It’s the second-most common household type in New Zealand.) Many tour operators are reporting a significant uptick in bookings by solo travellers of all ages, while Google searches for “solo travel” increased 131 per cent between 2016 and 2019.
Some companies are beginning to take notice of this shift. In 2022, the Travel Corporation — which represents tour operators Trafalgar and Insight Vacations — started to waive single supplements, meaning travellers could have their own room without having to pay extra. Cruise company Tauck has also announced that in 2023, it will entirely waive the single supplement on all Category 1 riverboat cabins.
The last bastion of change will likely be hospitality. Amsterdam’s Eenmaal — the first restaurant for solo eaters — was lauded when it opened in 2014. Except it was little more than a conceptual art project, designed to examine “loneliness in [a hyperconnected] society”.
I’m not lonely. I’m just hungry and refuse to rely on room service.
Yet, society doesn’t see me that way. Studies show that by dining out alone—particularly as a woman, particularly at dinnertime—I’m breaking a social contract. According to researchers from Bournemouth University, it’s perceived as a “deviant” act.
“The challenges faced by solo tourists result from the attitudes towards aloneness held by wider society,” they wrote in the International Journal of Contemporary Hospitality Management in 2019.
Translation? Even if I’m not uncomfortable being alone, my aloneness makes others deeply uncomfortable.
This may be why the bar is the default position for solo diners. The opportunity to interact with a bartender or chef “offers an avenue through which [solo diners can] ‘save face’,” writes Elaine Chiao Ling Yang, a senior lecturer of Tourism at Griffith University.
But it’s wrong of hospitality staff to presume we don’t want to be alone.
“If I want to sit at the bar — and sometimes I do — I will ask,” says a fellow travel writer. “The idea of prioritising couples is dehumanising — like you’re not a valuable patron if you’re not with someone? It’s buying into societal norms that you’re worth more if you’re partnered.”
So, this is my call to action. As the population continues to age, the number of people going solo is only going to increase. Stop assuming we’re lonely. Got a share plate menu? Consider offering sampler plates for one. Eliminate single supplements. And, for the love of god, stop seating us at the bar.
