Get out and make some friends.

The husband and I went to our friends' house Friday night for a party, and had a fabulous time. We met new people, had a laughter riot and came back home well fed and watered, at 3:00 am.

The next morning, while nursing a sleep hangover (don't tell me you don't know what that is - - that heavy eyed feeling from getting just 9 hours of sleep) and sipping my tea, perched on our comfortable rocking chair, my mind wandered and I got thinking about how we met these friends. 

We (the husband and I) met them when we were doing what we love best-- traveling.

And this is one of the primary reasons why I love traveling. Not only do we get to discover, see and eat at new places, we also get to meet interesting, fun, quirky people along the way.

From a neighbour who I have never seen or met in the complex where we live, but met on a flight to Dubai, and discovered that we work in the same office as well (!), to friends we met at the Acropolis in Greece, while competing to absorb the fascinating history thrown at us by our super intelligent and infectiously enthusiastic guide. The sweet, stoned shopkeeper in Santorini, who wanted to adopt me and our four-legged friends who decided to make our tree house their lounge in Wayanad.  The interesting couple we met in Andamans, who I clicked a picture for and who returned the gesture by giving the husband a strong drink of whisky for his cold. Or, the Spanish and Italian couple I stayed with in Valencia, who made me some yummy Spanish dishes and introduced my to fantastic Spanish lounge music... it has all been nothing short of fascinating.

The adorable golden retriever in Wayanad

The boxer who wouldn't leave our side, in Wayanad

I have a fabulous story to tell, for each of my trips, because we have had such interesting conversations and experiences.

Yoli, while teaching me how to make Erbido, in Valencia

Talking to the effervescent Spanish friend in sign language and exaggerated hand gestures, since she spoke very little English and I knew all of four words in Spanish, but managing to talk about cultures, traditions and practices and about being the only wife to the husband (she very cutely and genuinely thought that Indians are allowed multiple marriages. And the fact that I was traveling and living on my own in they same city where the husband was visiting on work, did not help!). Or, receiving a packet of credit cards when we arrived in our hotel in Santorini (I was so impressed that they were giving this as a part of our package!), only to discover that the fun, witty friends we met in Athens had gone to Santorini before us and had forgotten their cards there, leading to us meet in Mumbai quite regularly since. Or, the lovely lady we met at Andamans, who left her corporate job to follow her passion, to create exotic bath and body lotions and potions (which I have sampled and can't wait to get more of). Each experience, each conversation, has made me fall in love with having gypsy feet, even more.

Me getting almost adopted in Santorini

And, the best part of all this is that we are friends with most of them, even today, in some way or the other.

During another memorable vacation (near Pune), with the friends we met in Greece

The aim is not to ever lose touch and to keep adding to this list exponentially.

With that, it is time to make some more new friends now. And to spend the Sunday discussing our next travel plan.

Single in a city

A relaxed Saturday at home after ages. For once, I was not traveling or meeting anyone. This pushed me to do something—apart from traveling—that I have fallen in love with, of late: DIY craft. I started digging around in my craft supplies box to look for some inspiration. And there, among other things, I found a pine cone. I had put it there a few months ago and forgotten all about it. This discovery excited me in the same way finding money in the pocket of your clothes does, when you are least expecting it. The little pine cone brought back some great memories from a trip a few months ago to Valencia, Spain.

PC (Pine Cone, not Priyanka Chopra), as I will call it from now, is now spray painted in a nice matt gold shade and rests on an almond-shaped wooden tray, on my center table, in our living room.

I met PC during a long walk I was taking in Turia Park, humming Guns n Roses’ cold November Rain because it seemed so apt. It was a cold November afternoon and it had been raining all day.  When it stopped raining around 4:00 pm, I decided to take advantage of the glorious weather and take a long walk in this park that I had read and heard so much about (I will get to the details of the park in a bit). I was walking along gaping at the beauty around me, when I stepped on something and tripped.

Thankfully I didn’t fall and make a fool of myself in front of all those athletic people around (obviously the rain didn’t stop the dedicated fitness enthusiasts). When I looked down to see what tripped me up, I saw the beautiful PC. It was all wet and clean from the rain, expect the part I had stepped on. Since I have this habit of picking up odd bits from nature like pebbles, leaves, coral etc, from all my trips, as a souvenir, I took PC with me, cleaned it and brought it back home at the end of the trip, with the intention of showing it off at home.

And I forgot about it, until two days ago. Now that I have displayed it and refreshed my memory, I will get going on writing about that day in Turia Park.

Though I have been traveling for many years, I have never gone anywhere all by myself. Backpacking on my own had been on my list for a while. And in November last year, I got my chance. The Mister had to go to Spain on work and how could I not join him? So, we planned that I would leave after him, see Valencia on my own and then join him in Barcelona.

Every trip is exciting for me, but this one was super exciting, because I had to do the whole thing on my own—booking tickets, figuring out local transport schedules, taking different modes of transport to reach my destination and to top it all off, handle my backpack and not my comfortable 4-wheel suitcase that I am used to. But, I set off with a lot of confidence and enthusiasm.

And I did well for myself, thankfully.

I reached my Air BnB room in Valencia after close to 17 hours of travel (including a stopover in Dubai) and using 4 modes of transport: Flight, train, bus and walking. All these years, poor little me had either my dad or later The Mister would take care of all the logistics for me.

This was new. And, fun.

The next day, I took a map, got some directions from my host and set off to see the city, in the rain. You see, I am a travist after all, and I couldn’t go all the way and not do things. I did a mix of touristy stuff that day and finally ended up at Turia Park, armed with an umbrella.

Turia is a must see for anyone who visits Valencia. The 9 km stretch is actually an old river bed turned into a sunken park, after a catastrophic flood in 1957 devastated the city. The city authorities changed the course of the river after that and the largest urban park in Europe was created. The park connects the city center with the City of Arts and Science (I will write a separate post about things to do and see in Valencia sometime soon). You can walk or cycle or jog the entire path. My idea was to cycle, but the rain spoiled my plans unfortunately. So, I decided to take a nice walk, before heading back to my room.

Walking around in a new city and in a lovely park, on my own (something which I haven’t done in years), I had Gypsy thoughts. About being married. About the time I was single.

I had a fabulous time being single.

Doing my own thing, failing, succeeding, falling in love, falling out of love, making my decisions, partying, late night drives, basically living my life my way. I was independent. During my single girl phase, there were times I didn’t enjoy being alone. Then came a phase when I was getting used to being fiercely independent and loved it.

And then I met a man. Because I didn’t want to let go of my independence and individuality in any way (lessons from my past friendships and relationships), I treated the relationship with trepidation.  But, being married for almost 5 years today to that man I met that day, I can happily say that I am who I am and in fact gotten better in a lot of ways. I do what I want and when I want to without any obstruction.

But, I had forgotten how to be single. To do things on my own. Fend for myself. Plan for myself. Take care of myself. I had become quite dependent. Way too used to being mollycoddled by The Mister.

That trip to Valencia and somehow that walk in the park that evening, lost in my thoughts, made me realise that I was leading a single life again, even if it was just for 4 days. And it felt great. Liberating. I loved the fact that I could do what ONLY I wanted. Get up ONLY when I wanted. See ONLY what I wanted. And not think of balancing the ‘we’.

Don’t get me wrong. I love being married. I love traveling and doing things with The Mister. I love the ‘we’. I really do. But, I also realised that I need some ‘single girl days’ every now and then to do what ‘ONLY I’ want. And I promised myself that I would do a ‘me only’ vacation once a year at least.

And then return home happily to being ‘we’.

PC on the table will be a reminder of that promise I made to myself.