Hi there. For me there was no other way than to walk it alone. My husband accepted this (despite his tears when accompanying a "little old fragile looking lady" to the airport, Melbourne, Australia) and those who didn't understand, never have understood me. The departure day was my 65th birthday present to myself. I did have other concerns. To combat these I wrote a list then took time to examine each. What was the underlying fear? What could I do to minimize the fear/anxiety? That helped enormously. The journey was amazing: exhilarating, challenging, joyful, tiring, uplifting. You name it (the emotion); I probably felt it. But regret? Never. Not even when the going got really tough and the loneliness momentarily threatened to 'undo' me. It's not for everyone, this going it alone. And of course the times that you are truly alone are not frequent, or long in duration, unless you choose them to be so. Being solo, without being conscious of sending out any 'signals', folk, or an individual, seemed to gravitate to me at just the right time, for a chat, for company, for solace and/or support. Other times, for similiar reasons, I found myself more open to others; a group, a pair, an individual. The first time, 2014: 3 months in total from my home base including 65 walking days from St Jean to Muxia. And...next time? I'll go solo again. Best wishes.