Travel has an interesting way of bringing people together, often in the most unexpected places. Last night was one of those occasions that reminded me how small the world can feel, even when we are thousands of miles from home.
We met Jennifer and Ryan, a couple Tom had connected with through a Facebook group for travelers. Someone in the group had asked where people would be in a few weeks, and Tom happened to mention that we would be spending time in Penguin. Jennifer and Ryan replied that they would be here as well, although only briefly. With nothing more than that simple exchange, a plan was made to meet for drinks and dinner.
When we arrived, it felt as though we were greeting old friends rather than people we had never met before. Almost immediately, we discovered a fun coincidence…they were both from Minnesota, which gave us an instant connection and plenty to talk about right from the start. Something is comforting about sharing familiar reference points, even when you are standing in a small coastal town on the northern shore of Tasmania.
Of course, our conversation quickly expanded far beyond Minnesota. Like us, they have spent a great deal of time traveling, and it seemed that every destination one of us mentioned sparked another story from someone else. Countries we had visited overlapped again and again. At one point, they mentioned their cruise to Antarctica, which naturally led to more enthusiastic comparisons of icy landscapes, wildlife sightings, and the kind of surreal beauty that only exists in those remote corners of the world.
The conversation bounced back and forth like a ping pong ball. One story led to another, which led to laughter, which then reminded someone of yet another adventure somewhere else. It is always such a pleasure to talk with people who understand that particular curiosity about the world, the constant pull to see what lies beyond the next horizon.
We met at five in the afternoon for happy hour, and before long, we ordered dinner. Somewhere along the way, I forgot to take photos of the food, which is unusual for me these days. I suppose that says something about how engaged I was in the conversation.
What I ordered turned out to be an unusual twist on a familiar dish. I ordered nachos with the chips served separately on the side. Instead of the typical pile of tortilla chips layered with toppings, the bowl contained shredded pot roast topped with melted cheese, guacamole, salsa, and sour cream. The chips sat in their own basket beside it.
In the end, I never ate a single chip. The bowl itself was satisfying on its own. It was hearty and flavorful, the kind of dish that feels comforting after a cool evening along the Tasmanian coast. The basket of chips, however, did not go to waste. I pushed them toward the center of the table, and the three of them happily munched their way through the entire bowlful.
Before we knew it, the evening had slipped away. We had arrived at five, but by eight thirty we were already back at the house. It was the perfect amount of time to enjoy good company without turning the night into something exhausting.
Once home, Tom and I settled in to watch an episode of The Traitors, which has become our little evening ritual. Not long after the episode ended, I headed off to bed.
Unfortunately, sleep did not come easily. It turned into one of those restless nights where you drift in and out without ever feeling fully settled. Today, I am feeling its effects. Between making pizza for Tom and preparing a seafood dish for myself, I find that I am dragging my feet more than usual.
Still, tomorrow is another day, and I suspect a good night’s sleep will set everything right again. Besides, we returned home last night after seeing something quite special at the wildlife department, a thrill for both of us. Tomorrow I will share that story, along with a stunning photo, because it was one of those moments that remind us once again why we love being here and traveling the world.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago, March 14, 2016:
