My wife didn’t want to travel where I did, so I went on a trip without her. It worked out surprisingly well for both of us.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame had been on my bucket list for years.

However, every time I raised Cleveland as a potential vacation destination, my wife, Cece, said no. We often traveled together and had been to a lot of places around the US, but she had no interest in exploring the Ohio city.

So when a conference put me back in the US this spring, I added a few days to my trip and finally headed to Cleveland solo.

My travels went better than I expected, and by the time I returned home (with two badly made souvenirs in tow), I was convinced you shouldn’t skip a place just because your partner doesn’t want to see it.

When nobody knows you, it feels easy to say yes to new things

Alone in a new city and eager to socialize, I found it easy to try things I wouldn’t have otherwise.

That’s how I found myself at the Cleveland Public Theatre’s “open mic” night, where local writers bring new screenplays for audience members to perform on stage.

I’d done some acting at university, but none since, and at home I’d never have gone to something like this. But nobody in Cleveland knew me, and I didn’t want to spend a night alone in my hotel room.

As the event kicked off, I was given a part in one of the first readings. Before we’d read a line, the writer explained the scene had been written for someone considerably younger than me.

I jokingly dropped my script on the floor and walked off. It got a big laugh and some cheers. There was free wine, which probably helped.

At one point, one of the writers mentioned that Cleveland has the second-largest theater district in the country after New York City. Had I known that walking in, I might have been scared off.

By the end of the night, I’d spoken to most of the room and gotten some great local recommendations.

Traveling alone changed my plans, and I spent more time connecting with locals

Throughout the trip, I continued saying yes to new experiences. I also found myself spending more time connecting with locals than I probably would’ve had I been traveling with others.

At Cleveland’s West Side Market, I met Tom, who has run the same fish stall for many years. Fifteen minutes later, we were walking to his friend’s brewery for a 10 a.m. beer.

After the surprisingly early beer, I walked to the Glass Bubble Project, a glassblowing studio near the market. With Cece, I’d have admired the finished pieces on display and left. Instead, I decided to make her tequila glasses.

The owner watched with a mix of horror and amusement as I worked. I hadn’t realized how many steps were involved, or how many times I would come close to burning my hands.

Later in the evening, I went looking for the food my Polish grandparents grew up on, since Cleveland has a strong Polish heritage.

My theater buddies had recommended I check out Larder, a local delicatessen and bakery. Jeremy, the owner, works with koji and fermentation techniques I didn’t understand — but the food my grandmother used to make was there, in forms I almost recognized.

He was closing when I arrived, but let me sit down anyway and poured me a celery seltzer with apple-cider vinegar and dill-pickle syrup, among other things I was too polite to ask about.

It sounded awful, but it was one of the better drinks I’ve had.

His chefs pulled up chairs, and we talked long after he’d locked the doors. With Cece or my kids there, we’d have been back at the hotel hours earlier.

Turns out the trip your partner won’t go on is worth taking anyway

At last, I found myself at The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It was the reason I came, and the one place I wished I hadn’t visited alone.

I spent most of my day there taking far too many photos to show Cece and my in-laws, the real musicians in the family.

When I got to the interactive rooms, I played drums and guitars, completely out of tune and without rhythm, and kept thinking my family should have been there.

I still prefer traveling with family, but I won’t put a city on hold because they’re not interested. Luckily, Cece actively encourages me to travel solo — possibly because she enjoys having the house to herself. She gets a souvenir out of the trips either way.

The two glasses I crafted made it home in one piece. They’re uneven and proof of why I failed art class, though in my defense, I also felt like I was nearly on fire at several points while making them.

Cece will drink from them, which is as close as she’ll come to visiting Cleveland … unless that screenplay I read gets picked up. I just need makeup to help me look young enough for the role.