You don’t really know someone until you travel with them. Or as Mark Twain said, “there is no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them until you travel with them.”
It’s a lesson I first learned while backpacking with one of my best friends after college–we could coexist in the smallest spaces and never get on each other’s nerves. And one that was reinforced when we invited a friend to join us–a friend who seemed perfectly fine at home, but aggravated us to no end with his travel habits. It’s why I love traveling with my brothers, who walk as quickly as I do, and why I hate traveling with picky eaters. And it’s why I go on trips with romantic encounters early on, before things get serious. What better way to judge someone’s character? Just like many people are turned off by a date who is rude to waitstaff (which by the way, you should never be), I cannot date someone who doesn’t like a little travel spontaneity, who deems things “weird” when they’re different from home, who won’t be adventurous with food or drink, who doesn’t care to learn, who can’t roll with the various mishaps travel inevitably throws your way, and who takes too long fumbling in the airport security line or drags their suitcase so far behind them people trip. I admit those last two are a little picky, but travel is a big part of my life and hey, I know my pet peeves.
This travel with a relative stranger method has landed me on a cruise ship for three weeks (the guy was an officer and I thought it could be interesting despite hating cruises–it wasn’t), on a weekend trip to Spain (with someone who is now one of my closest friends), found me driving along the coast of Turkey 48-hours after a first date and a crazy conversation in D.C. (that guy turned out to be a little crazy himself), and most recently moving to Iraq for six months with someone I barely knew. That last one was and remains the best. Here’s the highlights version:
Nathan and I met on a dating app while I was doing “research” for a story about how much I hated dating apps. He was only in Chicago for one night visiting family. We laughed at how we’d never meet, then chatted anyway–for hours, days, and five weeks of marathon FaceTime conversations until we met in Istanbul for New Year’s Eve. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t, and a few days later we flew to Vienna and drove to Milan, spending two weeks in a car, winding through tiny mountain towns, subsisting on cheese and wine and never running out of things to say. By the end, we had decided to move together to Iraq for work, and two years, dozens of trips, and three semi-permanent living locations later I can’t imagine the world without my favorite travel partner, the organized mapmaker to my chaotic lists.
While pretty magical to me, this story turns out to be not very unique. When we put out a call for pitches asking for travel love stories, our inbox was inundated with hundreds of stories in the same vein. People who met on the road, who took trips without knowing each other, who found love in unexpected places. There were also dozens of pitches about self-love, found while traveling solo. If I learned anything from these story pitches, it’s the lesson that’s reiterated itself over years of traveling-–we’re all more alike than we think. We couldn’t publish all of these stories, but it’s nice to know they exist–that love of all kinds is found all over the world, all of the time.
Of course, inevitably there are breakups too, and in one of my favorite stories this month we’ll delve into why they’re so often done at restaurants. We’ll also talk about what dating is like as a digital nomad, share a beautiful essay about fleeting love and the pull of the road in Turkmenistan, and one expats everywhere will relate to on the surprising comfort chain restaurants can bring. We’ll read a sweet story on a family recipe and a daughter’s love for her mother, and learn how a heart-shaped cheese helped soldiers in the 100 Years’ War. Plus, travel writers will share their thoughts on the most romantic spots in the world, some of which might surprise you.
Happy February and happy Valentine’s Day! I love all of you for being such engaged, thoughtful readers each month. Your emails and social media shares and support are better than all the chocolate and roses in the world.
♥ Rebecca
