Mark Twain once said that, “There ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.” From the time we have ventured to uncertainty, I had my answer…But no, readers. This is not your typical sappy blog entry. I do not intend to make you “kilig”.
Our first trip was filled with hopes: I am a self-confessed wanderlust. I veer away from plans and conformity. You, on the other hand, needed a solid ground to start from. The budget should be precise…and no to hoping that there will be a place to crash. According to you, a warm bed is a necessity. So, without any choices left and after a few heated arguments, I compromised and bid farewell to times when I slept on airport floors.
That trip was seasoned with mishaps…as all our future trips came to be. It ranged from times when we couldn’t locate the booking office, moments when we could not find a place to stay (my carpe diem does not work when I am with you); losing the last money we have (biggest at stake is 2,500 Php and this is overseas); to extreme moments of sheer terror when our bus was almost subjected to a heist (and funny we were both ready to fight); missing our flight, and losing direction in the middle of a foreign country’s freeway. Did I mention the supernatural? Yep. Ghosts too.
It was always a concoction of some kind of misfortune that I have not encountered in my years of living–consistently–unless I was indulging myself on a series of sarcastic literature. Travel can really teach you a thing or two about life. The lessons it taught me were intensely broadening and having you as its co-facilitator was not a big help. Honestly.
I was annoyed with the idea that you have to always have a plan. I called you out plenty of times until you switched to being as carefree as me…and that was a further disaster. Remember when, from a 30-liter-backpack, you suddenly shifted to a stroller-type bag? You hurled it across the beach. On the sand. While people looked.
And with reference to bags, how we threw out our stuff at the airport since my bag was overloaded because I packed it in my most “liable” state of mind?! I cannot be the responsible one…yet, I had to.
From that time on, when you shifted, I had to assume another role. The lesson life taught me this time is not to change people you are travelling with. Travel creates a better version of themselves…and I have no right to interfere.
Travelling with you also made me realize that if I needed to take better photos, it will not come from you. The delusion of Instagram boyfriends should clearly go in flames. Not that you are not a good photographer. Your degree in Multimedia Arts served you well but, hey, you suck sometimes. Besides, photos are meant to have the two of us or else I could have just traveled with a tripod or selfie stick, conversing with it intermittently about life over coffee. No. It doesn’t work that way.
Hence, I do not have the mandatory blogger shots.
In the course of travelling, we also learn a skill. Mine was swimming. You almost killed me. But I learned how to swim. Consequentialism-wise, I got what I wanted. This is disregarding the premise that I could have sunk into the depths of Anilao and went home in a body bag. Bottomline, though, I know now how to swim and I can cliff-dive because of this.
Arguments are also our own special way of releasing stress from the toil of the trip. We squabble about the pettiest things: food, baggage, sleep, walking, sleep-walking, cigarettes, or even how you are in a good mood and I am not because I am tired! It’s also not a good compatibility with the ability we have of coining out the most creative forms of verbal aggression. It can be a trying lot most of the time.
So what am I trying to say? Mark Twain was a genius. He clearly defined what we have as travel companions. Through these trips I have learned that I loath you, whichever version or form you are in. I detest the catastrophe our partnership can conjure. But I like it when you encourage me to try new things. I appreciate it that we can be gluttons without being judged. I abhor that this partnership can bring so much calamity in our well-beings but I am grateful that it is you that I share it with. I cannot find anyone to travel with who is as reliable and as compatible as you are to me.
I’ll end this by quoting you: “Just be prepared. We are bound to be unlucky.“