In the last couple of years, my life has become an endless series of packing and unpacking, arrivals and departures, landings and take-offs. It often happens that I go through hundreds of photos from my last trip with nostalgia, while already planning my next trip in my head. And even though I’m greatly thankful I’m even able to afford travelling abroad, I admit all isn’t as ideal as it sounds – the constant changing of the environment coupled with countless new faces brings almost as many goodbyes.
I’m actually preparing myself for a new series of goodbyes as I’m writing these very lines. My backpack is full of fresh clothes and is eagerly waiting for me to get back on the road. The house in the Romanian city of Cluj, where I spent the last half a month as a volunteer, was always full of interesting people – from locals to foreign volunteers. Some of them only arrived a few days ago and I’ll have to, like so many times before, say goodbye to them even before I’ll really get to know them. I’m really shy by nature and need some time before I fully relax in the company of new people. But I do get attached to people that much faster once I get to know them better, and it hurts me every time when we wish each other good luck on our next journey with just a few used up phrases.
I can say, without hesitation, that I’ve had the opportunity to meet lots of wonderful people on my journeys. Unfortunately, I’ve also realised that those few fun days I spent on the streets in some foreign city together with another traveller I had met the day before in a local bar can easily be turned into wonderful memories, but rarely are they a solid basis for an everlasting friendship. The reason for this is simple: a few days just isn’t enough to forge that special bond.
Last year, before graduating, I had much more time for travelling, and I used up that time to spend most of my study year abroad. And even though I’m grateful for all the new experience and wonderful moments, now that a whole year of holidays is coming to an end it’s starting to leave a bitter aftertaste behind. I was too often compelled to say goodbye, the word that always comes a bit too soon. At a certain point when I was travelling across South Korea, far from home and everything I knew, it was that very reason that almost made me give up and jump on the first plane home. I was leaving the hostel, where I worked as a volunteer for three weeks and met a few good friends, to go to my new job post, which I knew was going to be full of new and interesting people as well. Though I was looking forward to discovering new places, I didn’t want to leave my friends, whom I met at the hostel, behind and I was almost angry at all the new people that I “had to” meet. Because why would I meet wonderful new people, whom I would gladly regard as my best friends in some other world, when sadly they live in the other part of the planet and it’s obvious from the start that their faces will sooner or later become but little icons on my Facebook. Why bother to get to know them if that means even more tears shed when the time comes to say goodbye?
I remember how I was sitting in my bed in a South Korean hostel that day and reassuring one of my Slovenian friends that I’m going to lock myself up in my room once I come back from Asia, and prevent this cruel life from introducing me to any new people ever again. Even though she found my desperate whining quite entertaining, she understood the situation I was dealing with and tried to calm me down: “Listen, I know how you feel, and I know how hard it is to say goodbye to someone at a point when the friendship just started to developing. But you know, in this ocean of people who come and go, there are also those few special ones who stay forever. It is they who make it all worth it!”
I quickly realised she was right – not just because she herself was part of that second group of special people who remain a part of your life (we met by chance abroad, during a student exchange in France, though we probably unknowingly walked past each other down the halls of Faculty of Arts in Ljubljana). Her simple piece of advice was enough for me to start seeing the glass half full again, instead of seeing it half empty. Our conversation helped me realise that a lot of my friends live hundreds if not even thousands of kilometres from my home, but I still keep in touch with them regularly and they present an important part of my life. Of course, I’d prefer if our communication didn’t depend on the quality of the internet connection, but since I’m unable to teleport myself at this time, I sometimes still send all my greatest joys and fears to foreign lands in the form of letters and emojis. When it finally comes to a get-together, and I can say these happen fairly often, it makes the happiness all the greater. Because our time is limited we make each minute count; quality is more important than quantity and sometimes four hours are worth more than three weeks. Like that spring day in Seoul, for example, when I saw one of my Korean friends after more than two years. We went out for a drink at first, but that soon turned into a full-day chit chat, resulting in our coming back home after dark, since there was so much we had to tell each other. Or that weekend in July when my Polish friend and I went to Berlin each from our respective directions, in order to see our mutual friend from Canada again after such a long time – that very friend who made me burst into tears two years ago by announcing that she’ll be able to attend one of our meetings.
After careful considering my friend’s words I was again ready to meet wonderful people on a daily basis. The fact is that, unless the wild plains of Antarctica are what you consider your ideal travel destination, there’s no way of avoiding human contact while travelling. Most encounters will probably turn into yet another beautiful memory, but some might evolve into long-lasting friendship that will bring joyous reunions in all parts of the world.
After all, life of an eternal traveller is very similar to that of any other – the only difference being that you anticipate the moment when everyone will go their own way from the very start. You know you’ll leave behind way too many wonderful people on your search of new adventures, but every now and then a cunning “it was nice meeting you” turns into “see you soon”. Sometimes you meet friends who, despite the distance that separates your home from theirs, become and remain an important part of your life, and they’re the reason why it’s worth walking down the uncertain path of travel friendships.
The article was written in 2015 as part of the promotion of youth tourism.