Chance Meetings

Most people would never even consider going to a country where they don’t know anyone. Even more would consider it insane to live in that country with a family of strangers.
Honestly, it’s the best way to see a country.
My host and I went into a nearby village earlier today to drop off some horse coats to be cleaned, and overheard some hikers asking directions to the nearest bus to Dublin. My host turned around and said she’d give them a lift into Gorey, since we were headed that direction anyway.
So they hopped in, and we had a good chat all the way into town, and they came to the book cafe With us. They were from Belgium,  and had just finished walking the Wicklow way. We discussed the educational systems of our respective countries, and exchanged travel stories. We forgot to exchange names until we’d already been talking for hours. The one named Peter and I bonded over a mutual love of books, specifically Jane Austen and Victorian literature. Jane told them all about wwoofing, and Juris and i commiserated over how hard it is to read the Canterbury tales in the original middle English. It was grand.
That’s two people that i would never have met or even thought to talk to if I hadn’t been living in a stranger’s house.
It’s two people I’ll never meet again, but will remember. Because there’s a kinship that forms between those who meet on the road. And that’s why I love to wander.

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