The best way to eat out alone (Letters, 4 August) is to be old, like me, and not care as fellow diners might assume your friends are all dead, or, if younger, dress as though you are travelling on business and therefore working rather than friendless. I speak from experience. It was my only pleasure when I had a job that required constant travel and I hated eating in the hotel, where the food was usually dull and the diners more so. I wandered around, chose the restaurant with care, and had a lovely evening people-watching.
Jane Dunne
Farnham, Surrey
• Forty years ago, when I became a lone middle–aged woman, I ventured nervously to Paris. Warily entering a restaurant for my evening meal, I was graciously greeted and guided to a window table – laid for one. The bliss of acceptance. Now elderly, but still single, I often dine alone. The remedy? Take a good book. That way you’ll always have a companion.
Jacqueline Starkey
Warrington, Cheshire
• I’ve dined alone, and travelled alone, often and happily since my partner died seven years ago. Not because I lack friends, but because for me it’s now part of normal life. I’ve never had a problem and see a very positive change since I ate and travelled alone for work 40 years ago. I had no idea solo diners were still treated so badly.
Paula Jones
London
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