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THE thought of going on holiday alone may fill many with terror but if you’re struggling to find a travel companion, a solo travel specialist is the perfect solution.

Friendship Travel, which creates sociable breaks for solo travellers, offers trips across the globe, from snowboarding in France to safaris in Kenya, Nile cruises, walking tours, pottery-painting experiences and book-reading breaks.

You can even just flake out on a Caribbean beach.

I’m just back from a watercolour painting week in Olhao, a fishing town in Portugal’s Algarve region.

I have a husband and two grown-up kids who could travel with me, but none of them shares my love of art.

So a week-long retreat with budding painters, coached by an experienced artist, sounded perfect.

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It’s only a two-and-a-half hour flight from Gatwick to Faro in Portugal, so I passed the time reading Plein Air Painting With Watercolours by Grahame Booth, our tutor for the week.

As I flipped through the glossy pages of stunning step-by-step landscapes, I wondered if I would be able to paint as well as he could. Spoiler alert: I would not.

I’d been nervous about travelling alone, but flying solo was so peaceful that the only time I missed having a companion was when I had to drag my 23kg suitcase (included in the trip) off the baggage carousel.

After a 20-minute transfer, I arrived at Casa Rosa, a pretty boutique hotel on a quiet side street near the market and harbour.

It has en-suite bedrooms, plunge pool, sauna, sun terrace, and fully equipped artists’ studio.

On the first night, all the guests were due to meet over dinner in the dining room.

I had my last moment of panic before I left my room that evening, picturing myself either being an immediate outcast or swallowed up by a group of misfits.

But I was wrong on both counts.

There were ten of us, ranging in age from early 20s to mid-80s.

Eight women (including me), Jasper, a very posh elderly gentleman from Dublin, and Grahame, our tutor.

Over the wine and three-course meal (included in the price), we all bonded and shared our reasons for travelling solo.

Some, like Jasper and Kate — a cool, retired film producer from Florida who was travelling with her daughter Liz — were widowed and wanted to spend time with fellow art-lovers.

Others, like Oonagh, a glamorous ex-pat living in Portugal, and Pauline, an outgoing Irish woman who runs her own craft shop, had husbands at home who weren’t keen on painting.

Sue, one of the younger guests, runs art classes online and wanted to pick up new techniques.

It was a fun, chatty group, and as I crashed out in my enormous double bed at 10pm, sipping from the complimentary flask of herbal tea that had appeared on my bedside table, I felt I was among friends.

The week followed an easy routine.

Every morning we’d all meet at 8.30am and eat a buffet-style breakfast together at a long, sunny table outside on the terrace.

There were warm pastries, oats, local honey, cold meats and cheeses, fresh coffee and juice.

To give you an idea of the quality of the food, the jeans I wore flying over to Portugal wouldn’t button up for the journey home.

Then we’d gather up our art materials and Grahame would lead us to a variety of local beauty spots and attempt to teach us how to sketch and paint outdoors.

He is a very funny teacher, who’d regularly offer down-to-earth advice like, “If you can’t draw cars, don’t!” or, “If it looks right when it’s wet, then it’s wrong”.

We all sat behind him, watching in awe as his brush rapidly covered his paper in sloshy, brisk marks that eventually became the bustling outdoor cafe, a calm church or the fish market.

At lunchtime we were left to our own devices and I took to escaping for a Sagres (the local beer) to boost my confidence for the afternoons, when we’d paint our own pictures.

We could either paint out on the streets — where passers-by would pause next to my sketchbook and shoot confused looks between my picture and the landscape I was failing to recreate — or upstairs at the hotel’s own studio.

The three-course dinner each night featured local dishes including quiches, pork, soups and barbecued fish.

The hotel happily catered to the vegetarians and gluten-free guests, as well.

On two nights we went out as a group to a restaurant, and treated locals to a medley of Les Mis songs as we walked back to the hotel.

There was lots of free time to go shopping. Olhao is famous for its hand-made cork, ceramics and mosaics, and one day we all took a boat trip over to Culatra Island.

On the last evening, Grahame organised a critique of everyone’s work.

My nerves returned and I expected him to either set fire to my sketchbook or suggest I book myself on to Friendship Travel’s other activity holidays (pottery painting, perhaps, or book reading), but he was shockingly positive.

And then we had a riotous and boozy last dinner together, with a talent show organised by Pauline.

It’s a week I’d gladly repeat.

The service from Friendship Travel was kind and personal, and I felt supported every minute of the trip.

Mind you, it was lovely to see my husband waiting for me in arrivals — so I could finally stop dragging my own case.

THE sweet scent of popcorn and vanilla cupcakes wafts over me as I stroll along the shiny streets, filled with excited chatter.

It’s true what they say about Florida’s Walt Disney World Resort near Orlando.

The mega theme park is a real-life fairytale, where pink castles and bejewelled princesses really do exist.

I was visiting for the first time, with my sister Emma-Rose.

We are both in our twenties and without children. Would we be past the ideal age?

It quickly becomes apparent that the magic isn’t just for kids.

WAIL OF A TIME

I drove Irish Route 66 with deserted golden beaches and pirate-like islands

TEMPTED?

Tiny ‘Bali of Europe’ town with stunning beaches, €3 cocktails and £20 flights

And with the new Toy Story 5 film released yesterday, our timing couldn’t have been better.

Simply wandering through the parks was enough to blow us away.

The resort is staggeringly huge — the same size as San Francisco — and contains four theme parks and two water parks.

The whole operation requires 80,000 staff members to make sure everything runs perfectly — and run perfectly it does.

While I’m a bit of a thrill-seeker, my sister is more of a chill-seeker, but there’s plenty for both types of holidaymakers to enjoy here.

Unsurprisingly, my favourite attraction was the newly revamped Rock ’n’ Roller Coaster, often referred to by fans as the most intense ride at Disney World.

The attraction has been given a makeover for 2026, with its previous Aerosmith theme being ditched to make way for The Muppets.

Visitors are invited to hop inside a mini limo and hold on for dear life as they are propelled forward, from zero to 57mph in under three seconds, before being thrown around two loops and three inversions.

I stepped off beaming and was soon dancing along to the new Muppet-themed party in the gift shop.

Star Wars fan Emma, on the other hand, was in her element swooping past Stormtroopers on the Rise Of The Resistance attraction and unlocking the new Mandalorian and Grogu experience on Millennium Falcon: Smugglers Run.

Both are must-dos for lovers of the franchise.

If you’re feeling that Toy Story nostalgia after the new movie, Buzz Lightyear’s Space Ranger Spin has also had an upgrade and been fitted with new hand-held blaster guns and targets.

Being able to track our accumulating scores very much fuelled the sibling rivalry.

It’s not all about the rides, though, especially not for a Disney newbie like me.

Thanks to social media, I knew that the dining was a huge part of the experience for most mega fans and I’d gathered my own list of snacks that I was desperate to try.

Mickey Mouse-shaped pretzels, Mickey ice cream cookie sandwiches and cheeseburger- flavoured spring rolls (they shouldn’t work, but they really do) were all top of the pile.

And that’s before you get to the main restaurants where characters wander up to your table mid-feast.

My favourite eatery was Tusker House, an African-inspired restaurant in Animal Kingdom, where Mickey, Donald, Daisy and Goofy visit your table and break out into dance around every 30 minutes.

Some say overstimulating, I say bring on the party.

We visited for breakfast and were treated to a huge buffet spread starring everything from shakshuka to Simba-shaped pancakes.

This place is famous for its take on French toast, which it does as South African bulkas buns slathered in icing and served like decadent bread and butter pudding.

You’ll have to resist gobbling down too much if you plan on tackling those rollercoasters straight after, though.

As for Toy Story fans, you won’t regret a visit to the Roundup Rodeo BBQ in Hollywood Studios, where bites of beef brisket and barbecue ribs come with a side of entertainment.

Diners are treated as fellow toys by the Toy Story gang and told to freeze when they hear “Andy’s coming!”.

The fun doesn’t even end in the parks and restaurants.

Disney hotels take the fun to a whole other level.

Guests can pick between Value, Moderate and Deluxe stays, but all on-site hotels bring big benefits such as early admission into the parks.

I stayed at Disney’s Polynesian Village Resort, which felt like a holiday in its own right.

I was greeted by large leafy palms and a smiling ukulele player on arrival.

And I was checked in with a friendly “Aloha” and a traditional lei (flower necklace).

Dads, this is surely your cue to break out that Hawaiian shirt and sunnies.

The hotel is home to three swimming pools, a waterslide, ten bars and restaurants, plus its own white sand beach.

Rooms are very well themed — ours smelt tropical with a whiff of freshly cut flowers.

I slept beside a large painting of Disney princess Moana and received wake-up calls from Mickey Mouse — the kind of extra touches you can’t get staying off-site.

But that’s not even the best part about the Polynesian.

Here, guests can watch the famous nightly fireworks display from the beach.

One of my fondest memories of the trip was pulling up a deck chair with my sister, tucking into a Hawaiian pizza and watching the night-time show take place above the Magic Kingdom from across the water.

We’re both grown-ups, but we felt like little kids watching the colours burst across the sky.

It’s safe to say I had very high expectations for the most magical place on Earth.

Yet, somehow, Walt Disney World still managed to exceed them.

And Emma and I flew home with smiles on our faces, which still haven’t faded.

This sort of magic is priceless, no matter your age.

I WAS born in Southend-on-Sea with candy floss and chip grease running through my veins, so I have a real soft spot for an English seaside resort.

And with its blonde sandy beaches, vintage ice-cream parlours and shellfish stalls, the Kent coastal town of Ramsgate does not disappoint.

Cockles aside, my partner and I have come for the weekend to check out one of its quirkiest attractions, This Museum Is (Not) Obsolete, which is part studio, part science lab and part techno time capsule.

It’s owned and run by Sam Battle, AKA Look Mum No Computer, who represented Britain in the Eurovision Song Contest this month.

Now back in Ramsgate proudly brandishing his ONE point, Sam’s museum houses his vast collection of eccentric inventions, retro computers, analogue synthesisers and other audio oddities that hum, squeak and beep.

It’s brilliant and bonkers in equal measure.

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Staring up at the flashing 1,000 Oscillator Megadrone, I’m assured the museum is very hands-on and you can touch and play with almost everything.

Fans travel from across the country to see Sam’s creations, including a Raleigh Chopper/synthesiser, a flame-throwing Henry Hoover and my favourite, the Furby organ — a fully functioning instrument ­power­ed by rows of the singing fluffy toys.

After an hour happily geeking out, we wander down to the harbour — the only one in the UK still officially granted royal status.

There, primary-coloured fishing boats bob alongside shiny yachts, while cafe-bars and vintage bike shops hide under the arches nearby.

Ramsgate can be a little gritty in parts — there’s no shortage of vape and betting shops — but that’s part of its charm.

And like its coastal neighbours, Broadstairs, Deal and Margate, it’s attracting more and more artists, musicians and independent businesses each year.

A short stroll from the harbour is Addington Street, the town’s indie quarter. It has a hip artsy vibe with renovated Victorian villas, vintage blue street signs and shops such as Vinyl Head Records and No.36 by SP, which sells fancy homewares.

We stop for a pint at the Queen Charlotte, a cute little pub filled with retro curios; think fringed lamps, a ship-shaped cocktail bar and a ­vintage record player from where music by The Carpenters flows.

But Ramsgate isn’t just about kitsch pubs and fantastical Furby organs.

Beneath the town is a network of tunnels that stretch for two and a half miles.

Originally a tunnel railway that connected the town to neighbouring Broadstairs, it was expanded in 1939 to serve as an air-raid shelter for Ramsgate residents.

On the 90-minute guided tour through the dimly lit tunnels, I learn of Ramsgate’s remarkable resilience and community during the war.

We’re staying at The House at Ramsgate, a chichi boutique hotel (formerly Albion House) on the seafront.

From our sea-view room, we can see the world’s largest Wetherspoons, The Royal Victoria Pavilion, which spans 11,000 sq ft in a prime spot on the beach.

Instead we relax with a cocktail in the quieter lounge at the hotel followed by a dinner of locally caught crab cakes and ribeye steak.

After breakfast, Sunday is spent blowing out the cobwebs walking the coastal path to Broadstairs.

The scenic two-mile route links the sandy beaches along the coast.

A few years ahead of Ramsgate in its gentrification, Broadstairs feels like its more polished sister.

We find a farmers’ market in the gardens of Bleak House, where Charles Dickens wrote David Copperfield, and stop for a drink at the Royal Albion, his old watering hole, before wandering back to Ramsgate.

One thing’s for sure, whether you are into funky retro tech or sunny seaside strolls — or even a bit of both — Ramsgate is well worth a visit this summer.