Sometimes the best travel memories aren’t about places – they’re about people. This is a story of one evening in Switzerland, where I shared deep conversations with someone whose name I never learned.
It was a chilly afternoon when I arrived at my hostel in Switzerland. After tossing my bag onto the bunk bed, I stepped out to soak in the town. By the time I returned, two new roommates had checked in – a lively guy from Barcelona and a quiet girl from India. I gave them a nod and went about my evening.
Later, I grabbed a seat at the hostel’s grill bar, enjoying the hum of distant conversations. That’s when she appeared again, scanning the room. Our eyes met.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked, gently tapping the table.
“Of course,” I said, and from that moment, the night unraveled like a story written by fate.
We talked about everything – our studies, travels, data science, and even strip clubs in Thailand. She shared memories of Singapore, while I recounted stories from Barcelona. There were no boundaries, no awkward silences – just laughter and the comfort of connection.
The hours slipped by unnoticed, and as the restaurant closed, we walked back to our room, wrapped in the silence of the cold night.
The next morning, she left quietly at dawn. I woke up hours later, the empty bed next to mine a quiet reminder of the fleeting nature of travel friendships.
Ending:
I never got her name. But maybe that’s how it was meant to be – a perfect chapter in my journey, one that ended exactly where it should have. Sometimes, the best stories are the ones that remain unfinished.