Striking up a conversation with a stranger, especially when one is away from home turf — in another state or halfway across the globe — always leads to new insights. Somehow, sharing seems easier, and there is a double-edged desire to understand one another. Talking about history and the past, hopes and dreams for the future, life, expectations, favorite places, fears and hardships, war and peace, children and ancestors, puppies and good food — it seems easy to cross cultural borders in those times. Such encounters happen quite naturally while waiting for a flight, browsing a bazaar, standing on a cruise ship deck, or sitting in a crowded cafe almost anyplace in the world. It’s real, easy, and spontaneous.

The truth is that people throughout the world are eager to talk about all of these things — to me and to you. And we’re all eager to talk about our homes and our families. We form quick friendships with others we have just met. Sometimes they are short, quick encounters, and they end just as quickly. Occasionally, those chance meetings lead to lasting memories. They can also foster new friendships that easily survive decades and distances. There is promise in that fact.

So, because travel has once again become a welcome reality, I look at the empty pages of my desk calendar for the coming year, thinking about the destinations that will be penciled into those pages. I cannot help but think of the people I might meet in those faraway places. And I think of the trip from which I recently returned. For nearly three weeks, I was a solo traveler. It was not my first trip alone, but it was a uniquely fresh adventure. For many years, I have enjoyed the company of a willing travel partner. When my spouse and I each had busy and fulfilling careers, we were not infrequently apart due to work schedules and business trips. We sometimes enjoyed the company of individual friends and family members on our travels, but we traveled as a couple for most of our most memorable vacations.

Booking a solo cruise for May of 2023, followed by attendance at a professional conference, was in many ways new territory for me at this stage of my life. And, I must report that it was better than I had hoped. I also have to say that, for me at least, it was nice to return home and resume my by-now-familiar pattern of life. Will I leave again as a solo traveler? At this point, I am not certain that I will, but I would not hesitate should the right opportunity present itself.

That’s the joy of traveling. The art and the architecture, the vistas and the crowded piazzas, the food and the wine, the excursions and the unexpected experiences all may be the stuff of dreams, but nothing beats the privilege of sharing “quality time” with real people, no matter how fleeting that time might be.

That’s what I missed most during the pandemic. Interacting with real people is the one thing that makes travel so enjoyable, so unforgettable, so necessary, to my mind. That’s what I anticipate most with each trip I take. My recent journey seemed almost like too much frosting on the cake. It included another chance to step across the latitude line in northern Alaska that allows me to say that I have been north of the Arctic Circle once again. The first time was a Nordic cruise to “the top of the world” last September. Coupled with a trip to Antarctica in January of this year, this time was a new thrill.

Where to next? At this point, I have no idea. Much to our disappointment, a planned February 2024 cruise that we had booked with a sizable group of friends and family was just canceled by the cruise line due to ship redeployment. But, I am sure we will find another journey that lures us to “take flight.” Once again, it will mean a potential to meet and interact with interesting people in addition to a distinctive itinerary, that will lead us to book another trip.

Looking forward also entails looking back.

Several years ago, my husband and I had a free afternoon in a Mediterranean port city. We had seen enough churches and museums, eaten enough lunch, walked too much. We found a cabbie near the port who, for a set fee, was willing to take us on a drive around “his” city. We wanted to visit a market to buy some fresh fruit, perhaps some cheese and olives, and a local bottle of wine. We wanted to see the view from the bluffs above the city. Most of all, we wanted to relax and hear about life in a unique and beautiful part of the world.

We got all of that and more. Our congenial driver spoke in halting English about his family, his wife, his life. He told us how proud he was of his children, a son studying medicine in London; a daughter pursuing dreams of her own in America. He told us how much he missed them, and what he wished for them in the future. We practiced our Italian, asking about the cost of living, about the political situation in his country and throughout the EU, about the past and the future, about the weather, and about the cost of gasoline and the price of olives.

He brought us to a favorite lookout with an incredible view of the sea, where we stood in the wind and drank in the beauty of the setting. And then he brought us to a small cafe where we drank small cups of strong coffee as a fitting end to our excursion. He dropped us back at the dock and we re-boarded our ship, knowing that we would never see him again but that we would never forget him. The world grew just a bit smaller that afternoon, and our hearts were full.

It is experiences like that that will keep me on the road as long as I am able.

Follow me here @goodfoodandfarwayplaces.com to learn more about strangers I have met and befriended across the globe and through the years. Read more stories about travel, history and my random musings about life in today’s world @rightoffmain.com, follow me at facebook.com/cohenadrienne/ and on Instagram @adriennecohen221.