There are a few instances in my life that I can point towards to illustrate just how small the world really is. On a side note, I hope that the title sparks a chain reaction where the horrible Disneyland ride song is now stuck in your head as well. I have one person in particular in mind…you know who you are.
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During our first long weekend break from school in England, I travelled with my friend, Sophia, to Dublin. We flew from Manchester to Dublin for only $9, and we ended up staying in the same hostel that my dad stayed at thirty years prior. Thankfully I have never had a bad hostel experience, many people cannot say the same. This hostel in Dublin was older, and had a cool pub on the first level, but out of all the hostels I’ve stayed in, this was probably the most grungy. And Sophia and I booked a co-ed, 4-bed room nonetheless! Travelling and hosteling is not always the safest as 18 year old girls, but then you make new friends, and some of those pre-existing anxieties fade.
It was Friday night, so after we dropped our bags off we went for a celebratory glass of Chardonnay. I had just turned 18, and wasn’t even legal in BC yet, so this was the first legal drink I actually purchased in a bar. Well that’s not exactly true…as I did go to Germany when I was 16 and that’s the legal drinking age there. I guess my actual first legal drink was a “Sex on the Beach”. Okay, so my first legal drink in the UK then, or first legal glass of wine! Oh how far we’ve come. Looking back it was an interesting choice, but I was just following Sophia’s lead. Then again, I don’t think she had any idea what she was doing either, she was from the States where the legal age is 21 afterall. It’s funny to think about this now with all the wine knowledge I have aquired since. An oaky Chard is definitely not my first choice these days.
When we got back to our room, we were still the only ones there, so we made ourselves at home. The outlets were all in the hallway, so we had a chair propping open our door with our cords running through the doorway. I lay on the ground scrolling on my charging phone, while Sophia lays on one of the bottom bunks. I watched as two young guys with large backpacks slowly walk past our room, peering in as they go by. Thirty seconds later they’ve circled back. They come into the room, “we thought you were having a party in our room!” They said. We all laughed as we were obviously doing the exact opposite. The boys were very nice, and not just to look at. It was already quite late, so we didn’t chat too long, plus they were headed to Dover very early in the morning and wouldn’t be back until the late afternoon. They needed their beauty sleep, but they did say we should hang out when they’re back tomorrow evening.
It’s Saturday, and it’s also Halloween. The facepaint I have seen in Dublin is like nothing I have ever seen before. All day, as we walk around, random people jump out at us on the street yelling “BOO!!”. It was quite something. In the late afternoon we head back to our hostel to change before meeting up with some other friends from school who are also in the city. We come to find that our roomies are also back from their day adventure, and we get to chatting. As it turns out, they are from Florida, and they both swim competitively. And you know who they swim against?! None other than Sophia’s older brother. Even though her family is from Wisconsin, the swimming community is quite small as it turns out. And so is the world apparently. There’s nothing more to do than go out for a night on the town with our new friends.
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I flew to Hungary to visit my friend and old roommate from school. It’s almost midnight, and it’s pitch black out as we walk up the path to the Citadel. Once at the top we have an amazing view of the lights of Budapest below. We can see everything from the parliament buildings on one side of the Danube, to the castle and it’s great walls on the other. As we wander so close to the heavens, we run into a couple who must be the only other people up here at this hour. We soon find out that the couple is from Abbotsford BC, and not only that but their son is on the soccer team at the university that I will be attending in mere weeks, back in BC. They told me I should say hi to him should we ever meet.
Flash forward to the Fall. The university newspaper has an anonymous section where you can write in and make comments, or reach out to someone directly, etc. Well I decided that this would be a great way to make the aquaintance of the soccer player, who’s name I could no longer remember. So I wrote in. “To the soccer player who’s parents were in Budapest a few months back, they said we should meet.” Two weeks later the following issue came out and inside there was a response. “Budapest girl, meet me at Friday’s home game” and it was signed “#8”. Friday night came along and I went to the game, and that is how I met your father. Just kidding! It’s not that kind of story, just another story that shows just how small the world can be.
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More recently, I was on a train from Hamburg to Copenhagen when I met yet another Canuck. This ICE train was nicer than some, large comfy seats, and every four seats were set around a table. I put my bag in the overhead compartment, and sat down next to the window. I saw a man coming towards me in the train, he made eye contact and I knew a question was coming. I had been travelling around for almost a week by myself already, and I kid you not, a day has not gone by where at least three people have asked me for directions. So I knew the look. I mean, it’s flattering to be seen as a local instead of a tourist, but unfortunately I almost never have the answer they need.
I cringe in anticipation for the obscure German, or Danish that would surely follow. But then I hear, “Is this seat taken?”, in perfect English nevertheless. I look up in relief and encouraged him to sit. This was not just any English-speaker, this was a Canadian from Vancouver. He actually lived just down the road from my East Van apartment, and he also escaped BC just in time to miss the armageddon size storm and flooding. We had lot’s to talk about, and I spoke more with Kevin than I had all week. When the train crossed the border into Denmark, the police came aboard to check passports. As we both held out our Canadian passports, it occured to me that the people on this train think that Kevin and I are together.
We parted ways in Kolding, “the Kelowna of Denmark” we laughed as we refered to it as such, and Kevin bid me farewell. He definitely made the five hour train ride go by a lot quicker, I especially noticed this as I travelled back to Germany a few days later. I would have appreciated a Kevin on that ten hour trip. Maybe I will run into Kevin again one day. He does have family in the Okanagan afterall, and he now knows that he can ask any Tom, Dick or Harry in town where to find me, and they could surely point him in the direction of my house.
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Though the Grinch’s heart may be growing larger in size this Christmas season, the world itself is only getting smaller.
Just A Small Town Girl 