Every so often, as I groan about how heavy my computer case and
purse are that I carry to work each day, I realize I've become
a wimp.
What happened to the woman I was back in '88, when I backpacked
through Europe with a 70-pound pack? What happened to the young
woman I was, filled with adventure, spirit and the ability to walk
long distances with that 70 pounds on my back -- well, mainly
because it usually meant my travel companions and I were lost and
attempting to find out hostel in some strange city with a strange
language and strange street signs that we didn't quite
understand.
The best thing about backpacking was the people we met along the
way. We were this network of people who trusted each other and
kindly offered advice. Like, here are the best places to see in
Europe. Here's the hostel that serves Nutella for breakfast in
huge bowls. Here's the best cathedral to see. And here's
the way to protect yourself from kids who are trying to rob you
while you're carrying around your 70-pound pack and looking
through you Let's Go Europe book.
It's funny how we learned to trust these backpackers so much.
We could have seen someone carrying a chainsaw and a backpack --
and feel the guy was safe because he was a fellow backpacker.
We got a lot of valuable travel tips and a lot of good
friends. Some of these friends remain friends of mine to this
day.
However, every so often I wish I knew what happened to the other
backpackers I met and bonded with for sometimes a few hours, days
or even weeks. I sometimes wonder if, in today's so-connected
online world, if there is a way to track these people down and
reconnect with them.
But sadly, while sometimes I try to search them, I can't find
them. They probably have moved, married, changed names,
careers.
For example, I think of a woman named Judith Hack, who was from
Hamburg, Germany. I met her in Rome in 1988 -- and I have
wonderful memories of hanging out with her, and checking out the
ancient Roman ruins as well as St. Peter's Square with her.
I remember sitting with her along the giant columns in St.
Peter's Square: we visited there a few times, and watched as
the world carried on around us. We were there a day before the Pope
did an open air Mass -- returned the day of the Mass -- and came
back the day after.
To sit there for hours, and reflect on the experience, was one of
the most memorable times of my life that I cherish, for a lot of
reasons. To be able to share that experience with someone from
another country, to learn what it was like to experience the event
through her eyes, to share what it was like to grow up on different
sides of the world with our families and different experiences, and
yet have this opportunity to share together this unique experience
-- it was an incredible learning experience for me.
Do I have pictures of those days so many decades ago? Sadly, when I
tried to mail home my films for developing, someone stole all the
film out of the package. I was heartbroken -- I lost about 99
percent of my pictures of Rome. All I have are the memories.
But about a month after I met Judith, I was traveling through
Hamburg and visited her -- and we sat in her small apartment and
looked through her photo albums, and .... there we were. Two young
women, from two different countries, exploring Rome and laughing
with friends.
I know somewhere out there, Judith is probably carrying on her
life. Not sure what career she is in, whether she's married, if
she's a mother. I don't know if she still lives in Germany.
I wonder how it was to see the Berlin wall crumble, to grow up in
such different times than when we first backpacked.
When I think of Judith, and so many other wonderful people I met
through those months of backpacking, suddenly my heavy computer
back seems lighter. My step is quicker. My outlook is brighter.
There really have been some wonderful people I met in my life, and
I guess there always is the hope that some day we'll meet
again.