I came back to Lisbon for one last night yesterday. I didn’t see or do anything really. I just showed up at my Dutch friend’s place (the one who took care of me when I was sick) and talked for hours on her balcony as if she was my best friend. Travel does that. My American friend in chile and my Canadian friend in Argentina are still so dear to me, despite having known them for only a few months. At home, you have time. But travel creates instant, often super deep bonds. People meet you and get to know you as you are now. There no memory of how much you used to suck or any baggage.
While I truly value my long relationships (cuz those people have seen you go thru major change and can help remind you of how far you’ve come) I feel like I’m often times my most genuine self when I travel. Because not only are my assets heightened, so are my shorting-comings. So what you get is the real, raw, messy, complicated me. One who’s way more vulnerable than usual cuz it’s too exhausting to keep up your guard. Back home it takes longer cuz you’re more comfortable and, in theory, have loads of time to reveal who you are and get to know them. But solo travel forces me to open up now. I have no choice. Humans need deep connection to survive. So you don’t fight it as much when you’re feeling homesick or alone on a foreign land. One type of friendship isn’t better than the other. Just different. Both continue to shape me into a better version of myself.
Later last night her Swiss friend flew in and joined us. As much as I love a good night out on the town on a Friday in a beautiful foreign city, there’s nothing l love more then bonding with amazing women. We talked about our lives, our travels, feminism, politics and other deep shit til 2am on that balcony. As much as I value having good men and all the things they bring to my life, women have been and always will be the glue that holds me together.
(More pics later)