People make the place

Yes, I know what you’re thinking… another insight into this chaos! Apologies for my grammar and punctuation in the last post - you would think I have more time to proof read, but the world waits for no one. 

Although I am a solo traveller, I’m trying to strike a balance between completing plans independently and locating others to explore with. The first phase of meeting someone is always the same; conversations never usually go deeper than surface level. It’s a reminder of how much we centre our identity around labels, rather than our real self. For example, if someone asked you to tell them about yourself, you would likely answer with your name, job, hobbies and plans. These are things that we do or roles we want to fulfil, but are they actually us? Sure they can give you clues about what a person is really like, but it isn’t until you spend valuable time with them that you begin to learn about who they are truly. Some interactions stay awkward, and others make you feel like you have been friends for years. 

The fact that people can meet for the first time as strangers, spend precious time together, and then depart only to be strangers once again - this time with the memories of each interaction - is extremely valuable. Solo travelling is an opportunity to be authentically yourself, because if those around you don’t like you for whatever reason, you know that they will never see you again and therefore, you have no reputation to uphold. It creates this ‘who cares’ mentality (not in an irresponsible way, but instead an awareness that the pressures of conforming to a certain appearance or behaviour normally created, due to factors like media and job roles, are simply reduced).

This recent leg of this trip in Spain and Portugal has been adventured alone for the most part. However, I write in a diary everyday and when in reflection, it’s remarkable that the right people have been entering this journey at exactly the right time, even for a short period. I’m going to summarise for you some of the individuals that have stuck out on this adventure so far…

In Rennes, I met 2 girls in the lobby - one from Austria and Germany - and it turned out that we were all in the same dorm room as each other. After only meeting the night before, we decided that we would all travel to Mont St Michel together on a day trip. Two of us were just beginning our trip, where as the other girl was experienced in travel and had volunteered abroad. When the plan to get the bus after the train meant €4.50 and a 2 hour wait, the German girl led the way in finding someone to help us hitchhike. After assessing my safety, I said yes to hopping in a car with two girls I had just met and a random woman who spoke only French. We had an amazing time climbing the stairs of Mont St Michel and the scenery was unimaginable. Whilst the trip there was enough unpredictability for me and the Austrian, the German girl decided to also hitchhike back to the hostel, whilst we travelled back on the delayed, but more safe train, two hours later. When things go a bit wrong now, I try to also be a bit spontaneous - although I can’t say I will hitchhike again on my own for fun! 

After Bordeaux, I waited 2 hours to step onto my train after huge delays. There were 3 trains and the information on the screens were not aligning with what the employees were telling me. I stepped on one train and tried to communicate to the first person I saw. This lady and I thought we were both on the right train. After some confusion, which caused a lot of banana to go on its own little adventure in my bag, we rushed onto a different train along with other puzzled passengers. We settled once told that train was first delayed and then eventually got told it was cancelled after 2 more hours. So I followed the same woman off into the other train without understanding a word she was saying and gathered that this was our new train from her gestures. Then turns out the only seat free was actually next to her. After a couple of awkward stops, we began conversing through google translate and I found out she was Turkish and a teacher in France. We weren’t able to communicate with words, but we used a lot of confused facial expressions and pointing. We may not have been able to speak the same language, but we bonded over the frustrations from the morning. Noticing a partly familiar face on a different train made the journey much more bearable. 

First of all, I want to say that I do not condone any young woman alone to jump into a rusty old car with a random dude who knew her name, however, that is what I did in San Sebastián. A ‘shuttle bus’ was supposedly going to pick me up from the bus station, as pre-arranged with the hostel. After about 20 minutes no shuttle bus arrived. Then a man without any clues about being linked to the hostel, asked “are you Rosie, I’m your ride”. I was a little hesitant but before I knew it I had put my backpack in the boot and was on my way to, what I hoped, was the hostel. By using specific questions, I had determined it to be a relatively safe decision, even though the car could barely make it through the hills. To my relief, we pulled up in an old school, shabby surf hostel. I was definitely a little thrown off by the fact the hostel itself sold weed (making me realise that certain things were legal here that weren’t in the UK) and had a lot of alcohol barrels just sat around, telling me it was more of a party hostel than I had originally thought and that my planned 10pm bedtimes would be disturbed. I had come to prefer the more basic hostels, contrasting to a university student that arrived after me and who lived in Spain, but had never stayed at a hostel before. I got to know this boy quite well as we had adventured the unpredictability of the hostel together. We played table tennis each day and ventured into our first surf lessons together. We were also roped in to the yoga sessions and likely disturbed the others after laughing from our similar lack of flexibility. The instructor promoted the session as ‘light’ and it was not easy! My concern was not the ants and spiders that managed to crawl on me in some uncomfortable poses, but instead the thought of my gastric system making itself vocally known during the quiet. Thankfully the other boy and I finished all the poses unharmed. A small group of us formed with another girl, and after barely a night of knowing each other, we were connected over our inability to properly surf and sat in a mini van, frozen from the sea, having hydrated with nothing but accidental swallows of salt water. I met another woman each morning for a chat, because we were the only people up that early and although we were so different, we had a lot of similarities. We both had raynauds, so we knew how one another felt when we shivered out of the sea. She broke her foot before arriving at the hostel and still tried to surf, probably not the best idea, but what a mentality to have! The people at this hostel have taught me to just relax and ask the question ‘is it that deep and that big of a deal?’ and after reflection, the answer is usually no. My last night, I walked into my previously peaceful dorm room to find that the other 3 beds were now filled with three Colombian teenagers, higher than a kite (not due to their height). I was a little concerned about the quality of my sleep, but after chatting with them, I realised how calm and quite funny they were. In the middle of the night I peeked through my eye mask, after sensing some movement, to find they had spilt beer all on the room floor and drunkenly tried to sweep it up with toilet roll. One said “oh no sorry”, followed by “is it clean”, identifying their inability to soak in surroundings whilst the puddle of beer sat on the floor. Half awake, my reply was “yeah don’t worry” and I chuckled back to sleep after moving my bag. You couldn’t help but laugh and all the chaos helped to form bonds faster than a boring hostel would have. 

Another cool scenario was on the bus on the way to Portugal, where a 35 year old free spirited, British lady, stumbled on. The bus driver seemed to think he was in Formula 1 trying to overtake Max Verstappen. The lady would gasp when the driver nearly put our life at risk with his swerving and near close calls. At one point he continued driving, nearly into a sign above that was centimetres away from the windshield in front of us (she wasn’t amused, but I laughed uncontrollably). She was thankful when I told another guy that she wasn’t back on the bus after a break, he then proceeded to run off back into the services and get her. It’s safe to say she probably would have been left there if we didn’t go back for her. The bus journey turned out to be 11 hours, compared to the 10 hours we were told, and together we journeyed the lack of toilet facilities, near death experiences, seat movement, scary weather and time zone confusion. Had we both not booked that bus, it would have been a very boring journey. 

One day I sat on the step outside the station in tears after a situation had occurred and I felt extremely overwhelmed. An American woman noticed me and she just asked if I was okay. I didn’t need to rant or speak about what had happened, but her caring enough to ask and allowing me to reply with “I’m fine thank you so much though”, was enough glue to put me back together, get up and get myself back to the hostel. Some people enter this trip for seconds, and unknowingly make the biggest impact. 

The last hostel didn’t form any strong bonds as everyone was independently going to different places, but it meant the hostel acted as a base to come back to each evening. I met these two friends from the U.S and each night we would get a summary of the activities from the day and  we were laughing loads about UK vs US slang, which became even funnier when I hit my head on the ceiling. In the same hostel I met another solo traveller, who was also going for multiple months. We had a really long chat in the evening and laughed so much when she tried cooking some chicken and the spices made everyone cough in the unventilated hostel. Instead of going out anywhere, we relaxed and played some puzzles - nothing crazy but those are the things that you smile back on. When I had to leave in the morning to catch my train I didn’t get the opportunity to say goodbye or swap contacts. That short but sweet meet was something we both needed to slow down amongst the hustle of solo travel. 

I have accepted that I am very likely to never see most of the people that I got on well with. I believe that some have entered in my journey to help me grow in moments and there is a potential that I have met others to help on their journey. I hope to take this acceptance home and in daily life because as we all change and grow, people may no longer be able to stay in our lives - that’s not always a negative thing. 

When travelling alone you gain knowledge about the culture of the country you are visiting, along with the culture of the people around you from across the globe. In spite of many differences: gender, hobbies, age, race, lifestyle and language, people unite momentarily in unimaginable occurrences. Those who would have never otherwise encountered one another, can cross paths and absorb one another’s company. 

Strangers turned friends 

Only to leave as strangers once again. 

No more contact for the rest of our lives, not even a goodbye. 

Departing with the memory of a moment in time

And arriving in the future, reminiscent of the first “Hi”. 

I don’t even think I asked for your name

And I couldn’t describe the features on your face,

Yet I can remember the way you laughed when I hit my head.

I can remember you smiled at me from across the table at dinner 

And the way you stunk out the kitchen when cooking your chicken 

And we all started coughing and chuckled in suffering, 

wishing we had friends like this back home

And then I had to go. 

I wonder if you remember me or the way we felt similarly about the hostel dorms. 

I guess we’ll never know… 

Rosie over and out :)