7 minute read
3 WAYS TO TRAVEL FOR LOVE
Barcelona Londoon
Running with Serendipity
A chance meeting and the precious gift of choosing love over fear
by ALEXANDRA BADITA
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, gazing at me with his blue eyes when we stopped to cross the street.
It was the middle of the night and we had been walking through the quiet city center of Yerevan, Armenia’s ancient capital, for a few hours. I had an early morning flight and he had offered to keep me company instead of going to sleep. The air was still heavy after a day of 102 ºF heat, yet my adrenaline gave me goosebumps.
T. and I had only met two days before. I had been attending my friend’s wedding, he was the groom’s best man. When the reception finished, we moved the party to the hotel bar. There, we connected over Backstreet Boys songs and golden retrievers, shared stories about my Romanian background and his Dutch roots, and completely ignored that my home in Bucharest and his life in London were more than a thousand miles apart.
After we kissed goodbye and my taxi drove off, T. texted to ask me out in two weeks, when I would be in London for business. A few dates in the British capital turned into a holiday week in Barcelona, then flying several times between London and Bucharest. Every step of the way, I was choosing love instead of letting “what if” creep in.
Even when he confessed his reluctance to a long-distance relationship while we were sipping coffee in the noisy Mercado de la Boqueria, I chose to put the fear of the inevitable heartbreak aside. I excused myself to the bathroom, and told myself in the mirror, “Alex, you will be okay, no matter what.” In that moment, I chose to love myself enough to see the gift of the present moment, enjoying our little Spanish escape with a lot of tapas, Sangria, and romance.
Five months and 11 flights later, it all ended abruptly over the phone. But I was right, I was okay eventually. And choosing to live life, to capture those memories, was my greatest gift and lesson. After all, the only risks worth taking are for love—love for yourself, for life, and sometimes for a mysterious ginger man you meet at a wedding in a foreign country. “A few dates in the British capital turned into a holiday week in Barcelona, then flying several times between London and Bucharest.“
Where will you fall unexpectedly in love? Only your trusted travel advisor knows...
THE PROMISE OF DUBAI
by Adepeju Toromade
Can travel repair a love that has drifted apart?
“This isn’t working,” Nathan said to me during lunch near our homes in Ontario, Canada. I’m not trying to sound like a Taylor Swift song, but those words pierced my entire soul. He was right. We both knew it was true. We just hadn’t been able to admit it.
Nathan had been working nonstop as a real estate agent. I had been equally busy with my writing career and trying to launch my fashion business. Our aspirations had been part of our initial attraction. Now, one year into our relationship, neither of us could fathom how we had gone from super loveydovey to almost strangers.
“I’ve got a meeting in Dubai next week,” he continued, speaking softly as he reached across the table for my hands. “But I don’t want to miss your birthday and I don’t want to lose you. Travel with me, please?” While we had both traveled solo to places like Zanzibar and Panama, we had never been anywhere together. The prospect of going as a couple to Dubai sounded divine. “Sure, Babe,” I said, even though, at that moment, I was not actually sure of anything at all. Nathan contacted Adrian, our friend and agent, that afternoon, to see what he could make happen.
The following week, we flew business class to Dubai – a totally luxurious experience – arriving pampered and rested on my birthday. I wanted to begin celebrating but business, the reason we were there to begin with, had to come first. So I went to get some fries and a mojito at a nearby cafe, while Nathan went to his meeting. Forty-five minutes later, he had sealed the deal and we were ready to begin our vacation.
Adrian had booked us into Atlantis Dubai on the famous Palm Island. Gosh! It was all so dreamy. After a year of trying to find time for each other, this, was divine! As we settled into our room, Nathan got a text from Adrian. “He got us reservations at Ossiano at 8:00 p.m.”
I took time doing my skincare routine, put on my special emerald birthday dress, and paired it with rose-gold stilettos. Nathan looked amazing in his velvet tux. We were in fashionable Dubai, after all—couldn’t let the locals down. Nathan cupped my face in his hands, kissed me, then held me by the waist while we walked down to Ossiano.
Sitting next to the aquarium, the view was breathtaking. I felt like I was in paradise. The seven-course menu was so surreal. I loved the foie gras, lobster, and the wagyu beef. Nathan raved about the Bresse chicken. The highlight was when Tshering, our waitress, brought me a caramel cake with candles. “Aww,” I purred, looking into Nathan’s eyes. “I just want to make you feel special on this day,” he said, adding, “… and every other day.”
After dinner we changed clothes, made our way to the beach club, and sat beneath the stars talking about our relationship and how we had drifted because we hadn’t been spending quality time, like this, together.
There, on pool lounges with views of the Dubai skyline, we made a promise that we’d go on trips at least once every six months. The love, the spark, the ignition. It wasn’t gone. It had been there all along. We just needed to go away to find it again.
Contact your trusted travel advisor to plan the perfect romantic escape.
FINDING THE HIDDEN PIECES
by AGNES GROONWALD
I grew up in Chicago as the child of Polish immigrants. My mother is from Goniądz, a small town not far from Belarus. My father was from the Warsaw suburbs. Saturdays in Chicago were dedicated to Polish school where I learned how to read, write, and talk with some level of authority on Polish geography. It seemed like a punishment.
Living in Chicago, a city with more Poles than many Polish towns, I was surrounded by reminders of my parents’ homeland, which I took it for granted. I didn’t want to be an “other,” the child of immigrants. At times I was even embarrassed by my parents’ accents or lack of understanding American cultural norms. It wasn’t until I was well into adulthood, unfortunately after my father passed away, that my mother finally agreed to take me to Poland.
That trip to Poland changed how I understood my parents and how I understood myself. It helped me love myself. We saw the home my father grew up in and met distant relatives for the first time. We traveled south to Kraków and met the Wawel Dragon, breathing fire on cue in the least menacing way. We spent a full week in my mother’s hometown, a place rebuilt from the ground up following World War II and now a haven for birders thanks to the Biebrza River.
I took a second trip with my husband and two friends several years later. It was this trip that allowed me to embrace my “otherness” as a strength. I showed off places I’d been before, navigated menus in my native language, and shared pieces of myself that had been hidden away growing up. We laughed over pickled herring and vodka shooters and cried over a guided visit to AuschwitzBirkenau. We marveled over the resilience of this place.
Travel opens minds. In my case, it helped me open my own and better appreciate where I came from. I discovered that I love the place that has since become such an important piece of who I am.
Warsaw
Kraków
Krakow
Biebiza River
