Hiking alone in the countryside can be joyous, but for women it can sometimes feel unnerving. Here’s how to enjoy it safely, plus four stunning routes to walk solo

I did my first solo hike during a sunny September, seven years ago. After a summer of feeding and ferrying four noisy teenagers (and their friends) around, I was exhausted. But despite being bone tired, I had barely moved. I yearned, above all, for time on my own, for the chance to walk without interruption (and at the pace I chose), and for the silence of some empty wilderness.

But I was nervous. Not of being on my own, but of what might happen to me with no one around to help (breaking a bone, encountering a psychopath, being chased by a bull, getting fatally lost). I could have found a companion or joined a group, but my need for silence and solitude outweighed my fears.

Europe’s longest and most dramatic canyon is replete with exotic wildlife, including kingfishers and beavers, ruined castles and architectural oddities

We’re sipping chestnut kir on a terrace overlooking the Tarn River in southern France when we hear excited voices from the table beside us: “Regard! C’est un castor!” Below us, a beaver the length of my leg is languidly swimming upstream. We don’t need our binoculars because the Tarn is so clean that almost every fish, frog, pebble and ribbon of weed can be seen with the naked eye, magnified by the clarity of the water. This meandering, jade-green river – which winds from its source in the Cévennes national park to Moissac, just north of Toulouse – is home to trout, perch, carp, otters, frogs, toads, kingfishers and herons. We add “beavers” to our list.

Above us, huge vultures have been drifting all day, cruising the thermals in groups of nine or 10. And when our eyes haven’t been on the river or the sky, they have been welded to the many orchids on the bank: including monkey, bee, military, butterfly, pyramidal and fragrant orchids. Later, we discover that 30 varieties have been recorded in this orchid hotspot.

Writers from George Eliot to Goethe put this Lombardy town on the map, then it fell out of fashion. Today it makes a picture-perfect alternative to the Italian lakes

The ancient settlement of Chiavenna, in Lombardy, near Italy’s border with Switzerland, was once well known among travellers. “Lovely Chiavenna … mountain peaks, huge boulders, with rippling miniature torrents and lovely young flowers … and grassy heights with rich Spanish chestnuts,” wrote George Eliot in 1860.

Eliot wasn’t the only writer to rhapsodise about this charming town. Edith Wharton described it as “fantastically picturesque … an exuberance of rococo”. For Mary Shelley it was “paradise … glowing in rich and sunny vegetation”, while Goethe described it as “like a dream”.