A scuff on your bag, a dent in your mug – and suddenly it feels like time for a new one

Peter McGraw

Solo travel is surging – and an industry still largely built for two is taking note.

Google reported in April 2026 that online searches involving “solo travel” hit an all-time high this year, with queries for “women solo travel” reaching a 15-year peak. Hilton’s 2026 trends report found that 26% of travelers planned to take a trip alone this year, and that nearly half said they planned to add solo days to the front or back of a family trip.

The issue isn’t new. In 1992, marketing researchers identified the solo consumer as an underserved market. But as tourism researchers have documented, the accommodation sector treats double occupancy as the default unit of consumption, which often slaps a “single supplement” charge on customers when they travel without a partner. The industry essentially penalizes travelers for arriving without a second body to fill the other half of a room they aren’t using.

The reason why so many hotels, cruise lines and tour operators still base prices on double occupancy is that their costs – the room, the berth, the coach seat, the guide – don’t fall by half when the second person fails to materialize. But the supplement isn’t just a pricing convention. It’s the clearest signal the industry sends about who it built the product for.

I’m a scholar who studies what I call the solo economy: how institutions and markets adapt, or fail to adapt, to the rise of single living. I’ve written before about how retail and restaurants still design for pairs.

Travel is further along than most in recognizing this cultural shift. It’s also a useful case because the industry has started on the easy part of the problem but barely touched the rest.

Demographics matter, but not the way you’d think

The broader shift toward solo living is real. In 2025, 39.7 million Americans lived alone. That’s 29% of all households, up from 20% in 1975. Married couples, meanwhile, fell to 47% of households from 66% 50 years earlier.

Those numbers alone don’t explain solo travel. Some of that decline went to people living alone; some went to unmarried couples, who are still a party of two on a booking page. Married people take trips alone. Single people travel with friends, siblings and parents, and plenty of them have logged serious hours as an extra wheel. Living alone and vacationing alone are different behaviors with different causes.

What connects them is the erosion of a single assumption: that every adult arrives with a plus-one. That assumption is weakening at home, and it’s now encountering the booking page.

Price is the easy rung

One response by the travel industry has been to shave the single supplement. For example, the tour operator Tauck announced this year that it’s waiving the single supplement on a class of its riverboat cabins across more than 250 European river cruise departures and reducing it by up to US$600 on 105 land departures.

Another touring company has taken a more committed approach to adjusting its offerings: Aurora Expeditions sets aside 10 dedicated solo cabins on every sailing across its three ships, with no single supplement, through its 2026 and 2027 seasons.

Then there’s Norwegian Cruise Line, which was early to the shift. In 2010, it introduced Studio staterooms aboard Norwegian Epic: Small cabins designed for one passenger, sold at single-occupancy prices and arranged around a keycard-access Studio Lounge reserved for solo travelers. The trade-off is less private space, but at a price for one, with access to a room full of fellow travelers going it alone.

Norwegian then expanded solo categories in 2024 from nine ships to its full 19-ship fleet. But on ships without Studios, much of the expansion was relabeling. Cruise Critic reported that standard double-occupancy rooms would likely be reclassified rather than retrofitted. And by Norwegian’s own account, the Studio Lounge is reserved for guests in Solo Studios – so the fleetwide solo categories come with the discount but not the room full of other solo travelers.

That’s the difference between repricing and redesigning. The 2010 Studio was a purpose-built 100-square-foot (9 square-meter) cabin that cost Norwegian something to construct. The 2024 categories are, in many cases, the same rooms as before, with a new label and a discount. The solo traveler pays less than two people would, but it’s still more than half for a room sized and built for two. A cabin sold to one occupies the same space as a cabin sold to two, and the industry still counts berths.

There’s a cleaner approach. Yotel sells a room type it calls Solo – 114 square feet (about 10 square meters) in New York City, maximum occupancy one, at the bottom of its price range. Nothing was subtracted to make it. It was built at that size, for that guest, and priced accordingly. That’s what designing for one looks like, and it’s rare enough that a tiny room counts as progress.

Traveling alone doesn’t mean being alone

A common mistake in designing for solo travelers is assuming that solitude is the product. It isn’t.

In the same 2026 data showing record interest in solo travel, Google found that searches for “travel groups” and “tour groups” also hit record highs. A Mastercard survey of more than 15,000 consumers across 11 countries found that 39% of international travelers had already taken a trip alone — and 7 in 10 international leisure travelers were interested in solo experiences built to connect them with like-minded people.

The contradiction makes sense when you acknowledge that privacy and isolation are two different things. A person can want total control over where to go, when to eat and when to return to the room – and still want company at dinner.

The issue with double-occupancy pricing is that it assumes the customer brings their own company. But when only one person books, the operator has to address the pricing problem – whether or how to discount; and a product problem – how to supply a social component. Waiving a solo supplement solves the first issue, but it ignores the second. Norwegian understood this in 2010 by creating its lounge for solo travelers.

The pitch is easier when the product is for one

For all these changes, travel advertising often still runs on couples: two glasses of wine, two lounge chairs, two silhouettes against a sunset. Sandals Resorts built an entire resort category around the premise.

When solo travel does appear, it gets a different script. The traveler is adventurous, on a journey of self-discovery. AARP’s current solo-travel guide emphasizes personal growth and self-reliance. Even Norwegian closes its solo pitch by reassuring the reader that “you’re pretty good company.”

The effect is to mark solo travel as exceptional at precisely the moment it stops being exceptional. Nobody reassures a couple that they will enjoy the balcony. Calling a solo traveler “brave” can be a compliment, but it can also reveal the assumption that traveling alone is abnormal, even when that’s changing.

That all said, parts of the tourism industry have taken big steps over the past 15 years. But treating solo travelers as an audience rather than an accommodation is harder. It’s about selling them what they have already said they want: control over the trip, and access to other people, on their own terms.

Marketing researchers named this opportunity in 1992. Thirty-four years later, the industry is still learning to build for one. Meanwhile, the solo traveler is standing at reception, holding a credit card, waiting for someone to design a room.

This article originally appeared on The Conversation. You can read it here.