Travel likes to surprise us sometimes, usually when we least expect it. We can plan our trips to exotic locales to the T but there are some things that are always out of our control. The things we cannot plan? Well besides the weather, it’s the people you meet. Travel brings people into our lives that we usually wouldn’t meet at home. It usually starts with seemingly insignificant moments: catching that girl’s eye in the hostel kitchen, saying hello to someone who just checked into your dorm, asking a stranger for directions… Anyone you come across can suddenly be your new best friend, a passing acquaintance or a love interest. And sometimes, we can’t forget them. Sometimes, our lives aren’t the same anymore.
Below are five stories submitted by you, my dear friends, about people you’ve met on the road that have tugged a bit (or a lot) at your heartstrings. I’d like to thank each one of these people for submitting these stories to share with everyone and entrusting me with them. As they are of personal nature, the travellers will remain anonymous.
If you’ve met someone that has left an impression on you during a trip and would like to share it for a future From the road post, please email/FB it to me. It doesn’t have to be similar to the stories below; it just has to involve travel in some way! Thanks guys and happy reading!
I found myself in Florence, sitting outside in the garden of my hostel with a Spanish girl from my dorm. The table next to us had two guys sitting back and drinking a beer. Turns out, the one I kept staring at was also Spanish speaking. Thank goodness for my dorm mate striking up a conversation, of course in Spanish, otherwise I wouldn’t have had the nerve to say anything to this guy. I noticed him immediately. He had a certain look about him, he was wearing a shirt with the name of one of my fave bands on it and his hair long and crazy wild. We pushed the 2 tables together, and the four of us sat and had a conversation, half Spanish and half English. Slowly but surely, my dorm mate and his friend left, and it turned into the two of us. We got a few more beers, and just sat there and chatted until at least 3am about some of the most random yet in depth things. I can’t even remember everything that was said, because I was too busy staring at his smile and letting my imagination wander around. We decided that it was really late, and we should go to bed. I kept thinking on the walk back to the rooms of what to do or say… how to propose the thoughts I was having before we even met to him. I never did. I was too scared. We gave each other a hug, and went to our different respective rooms, and he was gone the next day. After that one experience, and maybe two or three similar ones, I have decided that for me personally, it is much better to not follow through with those thoughts. A year down the road, I remember his name, I remember (most of) the conversation we had, I remember the night. If I had followed through and if we did find a quiet place to sneak off to at 3 am in our hostel, he would have just been another nameless guy I met on the road. But now he’s Carlos, a friend I made while travelling through one of my favourite countries and that to me, means so much more.
I experienced what I’m sure was love at first sight during a Caribbean all-inclusive vacation. I never even fully understood why this girl actively found me out when she was always surrounded by more muscular and less hairy hopefuls looking for whatever they could get from her and her friends. The problem was that I was in my first real relationship at the time, and I did not want to mess that up. I was drawn in by her beautiful eyes, captivated by every conversation, and completely at her mercy in just about every way. Boring, often predictable me was even ready to move cities just to test the waters and see if an actual relationship could work. In the end, none of that happened. Missed connection? Perhaps. But I’m happy that I didn’t throw away what I had going into that trip, but I will likely always occasionally look back to those moments and wonder “what if…”
I remember walking into just another run of the mill dorm one day, completely empty minus one girl. Of course I made this kind of raunchy, borderline psychopathic, ice breaker joke… I did it on purpose to see how she would react. And of course she laughed, but I don’t think at first (due to my raunchy joke) she was overly eager to have much of a conversation with me, until I opened up a little. Turns out we were from the same ‘neck of the woods’ and by that I mean we lived in a distant vicinity of each other on the same continent. I said I was hungry, she said she was too… we went out and ate dinner that night. The next day we were completely inseparable, and by the end of a bottle of wine, and completely epic, straight out of a fairy tale type of night, we were telling each other our deepest darkest secrets, in the garden of our hostel until the early hours of the morning. I will never forget that night… because that night, I made one of my best friends. It’s crazy, because she left the next day and I kinda felt like something was missing. After a solid two years, millions of Whatsapp messages, and never being close enough to actually lay eyes on her again, she continues to be one of the best friends I have ever made. She has been there to support me through thick and thin, ups and downs, drama and trying to figure out guys (truth – both of us just can’t). She is the first person I go to with any excitement or problem in my life or even just to chat. And she is the first person whose advice I listen to and take into consideration above anyone else. And the funny thing is, I’m pretty sure she would say the same exact thing about me.
On my last “boys trip,” love was the last thing on my mind. When we go out it’s more about experiencing the culture, embracing the atmosphere and eating great food. We met some cool girls but didn’t really give them much thought. Never really expected to see them again, to be honest. It wasn’t really until I saw them back home that I really started noticing one of them. She was cuter and more down to earth than I realized. I admired her courage and loved how easy it was for me to talk to her. I wanted to make my move, but I was a little shy and I didn’t think it made any sense, based on the circumstances. I figured I’d wait it out and see what happens. However, time proved to be a bigger obstacle than I ever imagined. I still think about her every now and again. Wondering if she even liked me the same way I liked her. Or was I just a friend? Maybe I’ll never know but hopefully I’ll get to see her again.
I knew we were falling apart. We had changed our lives back home to make this work, to be together. But we weren’t working out. I had the plan to come here to teach English and he was going to find a job in his field. But it wasn’t the job prospects that were hurting us. I had a few interviews lined up while he just didn’t seem to care and treated this as a vacation. Maybe I didn’t fully accept it then, but we were over.
I tried sleeping that night but hated the fact that he was next to me. To stifle my cries I got out of bed to leave the apartment. He asked where I was going. “Somewhere else,” I said calmly. He didn’t even bother to press me and rolled onto his side to go back to sleep.
I went downstairs where a path in front of the apartment lead to a harbour full of boats. I sat down on one of the benches and tried to stop the tears streaming down my face. In my pocket I had one measly tissue. It was barely enough. People walked by but barely gave me a glance. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be noticed or not. Maybe some more tissues would have been good.
I noticed an older man sitting a few benches away. I don’t know what it was, but it felt like he knew something was bothering me. I’m not sure how as we never made eye contact. I sat there for an hour, or was it two hours? I stared pass the boats into the dark sea.
Finally the man got up and walked passed me. I lowered my eyes to hide their embarrassing puffiness.
“Hello,” he said cautiously. I looked up.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to ask… Are you OK?”
My heart sank.
“Yes… Yes, I’m OK,” I answered, holding back more tears.
He held his hand up. “Ok, I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Thank you,” I managed to mutter as he walked away.
It has been years since this small moment, but I think writing this and telling this story is my weird way of commemorating this stranger’s kindness.
If I could say anything to this man I would have liked to have told him that that moment meant something to me. I would have liked to say “Hey, you mattered. Thanks.”
xx
