I’ve traveled a fair bit. With family, with friends, with colleagues. But never alone. Until Paris.
I walked down the stone path towards the arriving taxi. He looked tired. After missing a flight, J had rebooked his entire trip from Vancouver to the Isle of Man. I, on the other hand, had arrived on schedule, more than twenty-four hours earlier. As I led him back towards the hotel lobby, a group at the bar waved and shouted, ‘Pam from Canada!’ J looked at me, confused. In the day he’d lost, I’d become an international sensation. A year earlier, we’d begun planning for a trip that would ...
The upside of travel is embracing the unknown. The downside, never knowing when you’ll find a place to pee. I think about it. A lot. I measure every ounce of liquid I consume against the expected number of minutes between potentially useable washrooms. It’s either that or, get arrested for public nudity in a foreign country. Men don’t have this problem. The world is their toilet. I can’t count the number of times we’ve been less than two minutes down the road when J realized he should have ...