Chance Encounters: The Kindness of Strangers
One of the greatest gifts of travel is meeting new people. Hearing their stories, their beliefs and seeing their smiles. Opening our eyes a little wider and at the same time, opening our minds.
There are some people you meet when travelling that may only be present for a short moment in time, but their presence stays with you for life.
We have had many ‘Chance Encounters’ with travellers and locals over the years, and even though we first met as complete strangers, the words and smiles of these characters became a part of our trip, and thus a part of our own memories.
These encounters, however fleeting, have always stayed with us, sometimes inspired us, opened our eyes a little wider and sometimes ever so slightly altered the path that we’ve taken through life.
So this blog is a big cheers to all the memorable characters we have met along the way! Starting with….
John the Mayor
After flying out to Bangkok in style on the Qatar Q-Suite in 2019, we then hopped down to Bali on a four hour Air Asia flight. We’d been early in booking the flights and managed to nab two seats in the front row, and two seats in the second. Extra legroom for us, while the girls chose to sit together in row two, and spent the flight happily playing UNO, colouring and passing notes to us in the front, through the tiny gap in the seat.
We were delayed at the gate waiting to board and were entertained by the golf taking place on the 18 hole golf course sitting between both runways at Don Muang airport. Only in Bangkok!
We were equally entertained by the people watching and spotted an older gentleman, somewhat incongruous in a suit and tie, with a Crocodile Dundee style hat, awaiting his call to board.
As we boarded and took our seats, we had a rather frosty reception from this same gentleman. First on the plane, he was sitting in the aisle seat, as his eyes fell, disgruntled, upon the two small, excited children who would be sitting in the row behind him for the next four hours.
Air Asia’s narrow seats meant that we immediately encroached on his personal space, by bumping elbows on the arm rest and didn’t get off to the most comfortable start.
Meet John the Mayor.
John told us he’d flown out to Bangkok from Australia in Business Class, and for this onward leg of his journey, the front row was all that low cost carrier, Air Asia could offer him. He was quite dissatisfied with this, but having also flown to Bangkok in Business Class, this little nugget of information offered an olive branch and opened up a channel to conversation.
John then didn’t stop talking for the next four hours.
We learnt his life story, as he did ours. John the Mayor was from Queensland, Australia, had some great stories to tell, and despite our opposing viewpoints on many things, he was fascinating to chat to. He was about 60 (we guessed), had travelled the world for both business and pleasure, was the longest serving mayor in his state, was recognised in the 2015 Queen’s Birthday honours list and had established his own business in vegetable processing …. and thus he had plenty of life experience to share with us.
We discussed the bombings in Bangkok that we’d both just experienced, along with all our travel disasters and travels plans for the summer.
As the chicken and rice was handed out with those little bottles of wine you get on board, we talked and talked and talked. About family, friendships, business, politics and pizza.
“I hate it. It’s like cardboard with a load of cheese on top. I don’t get it. Give me meat and vegetables any day.” He said in his thick Aussie accent.
The great thing about meeting strangers in this way, knowing you will not ever see them again, is that you can have a very frank and open conversation with them. Without divulging all our shared secrets here, it’s safe to say that we certainly all poured out our hearts and minds and felt like we’d put the world to rights by the time our four hours were up.
After trying to convince us to move to Australia, he commented how well behaved the girls were in the row behind and how he thought it was brilliant that we’d sat up front and left them to it. I’m pretty sure that the passenger in the aisle seat next to them didn’t share this view!
John struck us as a staunchly patriotic Australian, conservative in his views and yet his mind was very open to hearing ours. At the end of the flight, John told us how he’d really enjoyed our company and felt inspired by our family travel ambitions and was going to make a mention of us in a speech he was due to make the following week in Manilla.
We left feeling like we were, on some bizarre 40,000 feet level, friends.
We often talk about John the Mayor, his stories definitely struck a chord and have stayed with us. And I’ll always remember how a simple conversation changed the mood from the first few frosty moments of that flight to the last few fun ones. Just goes to show the power of conversation and a bit of friendliness.
Never judge a book by its cover.
Hurry Slowly
On our first trip to Bali, in 2017, the eagle eyes of a seven year old Koko spotted a makeshift sign made out of driftwood, for a local B&B, called ‘Hurry Slowly’. She thought it was brilliant, and the concept of the name fully captured her imagination to the point where she would make signs for her own ‘Hurry Slowly’ hotel, when playing at home.
“Why was six afraid of seven?
Because seven ate nine.
How do you make seven even?
Take away the S.
…….”
In 2019, we were sitting in our favourite local restaurant, the Cashew Tree, in Bingin, Bali, when a very boho looking Australian burst onto our shared table reeling off a string of jokes. The kids were both dazzled and amused by his attempts to charm them and he then sat with us for twenty minutes whilst enjoying his coffee and cake.
Twenty minutes, that was all it took for him to leave a mark on our lives.
This bloke was oozing energy from every pore, and had that special gift that Rhino also has – he was a superb conversationalist. He asked interesting, provoking and very direct questions and found a way to connect with us as complete strangers in a very short space of time. And Rhino fired them back just as quickly. We discovered common interests and we were intrigued to hear his story.
He had travelled the world by boat with his family when his son was young and had homeschooled him along the way. He started surfing later on in life and then moved to Bali where he opened a B&B in an old teak structured house right on the cliff face, overlooking the perfect blue waves of the Bukit peninsular.
We probably hadn’t seen it, he said. It’s hidden away among the Bougainvillea and he doesn’t advertise it on any major booking site. It was so popular, he was able to fully book out the rooms each year, just by repeat visitors and word of mouth.
“What’s it called?” I asked.
“Hurry Slowly” he said.
Boom! We told him how Koko had been fascinated by the name and he was visibly moved by the story of her own Hurry Slowly imaginary hotel. He went on to tell us how wooden structures, like the teak of Hurry Slowly, were the safest type in an earthquake prone area like Bali, and explained how they swayed and bowed with the movement of the shake, instead of crumbling like brick.
Having experienced our first earthquakes in this very spot, we were full of questions for him as he was for us. I think his name may have been Dave, I don’t really remember, but I certainly remember him.
A free spirit and a true storyteller, the 20 minutes passed like a quick fire round of a video game.
And just as quickly as he burst onto our table and into our lives, did he leave, with an invite to come to Hurry Slowly one evening for a Bintang.
That was the last time we saw him.
But it was not the last time we played ‘Hurry Slowly Hotel’ at home, and the front of house character certainly was a tricky part to cast in future role play.
The Sausage King of Riyadh
Flying home from Kuala Lumpur to London Heathrow in 2018, we’d managed to upgrade our flights to Business Class, using the miles Emirates had gifted us in compensation for the fire on the plane incident the year before.
The Emirates lounge in KL turned out to be one of our favourites by far, and we sat in the quiet lounge area with a glass of wine and some snacks, ready to get stuck into the the array of magazines, while the girls were settling in to their juice, cakes and colouring. I picked up what looked like a menu, which we hadn’t seen in any other lounge we’d been to.
“You should try the satay” came the voice of a Northerner who was sitting by the window, looking out to the runway over the Emirates fleet. He and his wife had clearly been here before and were just tucking into their own satay with a bottle of Moët.
Whilst we always try to respect the space and privacy of those around us, this was clearly an invitation to chat. So, on their advice, we ordered the satay and the small talk began as we waited for our flight. We learnt that they were flying home to Riyadh from their trip around Malaysia, where they had met up with family.
Saudi being a dry state, he fully intended to make use of the free flowing drinks both in the lounge and on board before landing. We got talking about travel, flying Business Class (his wife was a former Emirates employee) and living in Saudi Arabia. He didn’t talk too fondly of the place he now called home but explained that he was staying put for a while, due to work.
“What do you do?” I asked.
It turned out he ran the biggest sausage production plant in Saudi. I was instantly confused by this contradiction in terms, with Saudi being a sovereign Arab Islamic State and sausages in the UK predominantly being made from pork. He explained how he produced Halal products for all the big food conglomerates like McDonalds & KFC.
It was big business and my little mind had never even considered that was a thing.
Having first started work in this industry in the UK, he went out to Asia, where he met his wife, before being headhunted to run the operation in Saudi. Being too good a package to turn down, he’d already been there a few years, and planned to stay for the foreseeable.
When we talk about travel being part of life’s education, we usually think of seeing new cultures, and hearing new languages, trying new food …. But these little nuggets of information we pick up in conversation, well, these are little things we don’t think about. The things we learn from talking to people whose lives have followed a completely different path to our own.
That fleeting encounter opened my eyes a little bit wider to the world of Middle Eastern meat production. And showed me once more, that there is still so much I have to learn.
We boarded the same flight to Dubai as the Sausage King of Riyadh, bumped into each other on the A380 bar, and when we landed, we wondered how dusty his head was and hoped he’d managed to catch his onward flight to Riyadh.
The satay, incidentally, turned out to be the best we’ve ever eaten.
New Zealand Sheep Shearer
The lounge area of Parkroyal Penang is beautiful and its comfortable seating areas are well equipped with books, cool knick-knacks and toys for the kids. Its open walls allow the breeze to float through on balmy evenings whilst you enjoy the waiter service from the sleek bar.
One evening, Koko and Kitty were playing with the Jenga blocks they provided for the little ones, building towers and letting them tumble to the ground in an almighty clatter, whilst the hotel guests were enjoying a peaceful aperitif.
And as soon as one tower had fallen, we were approached by a middle aged man from New Zealand who was mid drink. Just as we thought he was going to ask us to tell the girls to be quiet, he said,
“I must congratulate you on how well behaved your children are. It’s lovely to see children playing nicely together – it reminds me of mine when they were small.”
Super relieved, and rather overwhelmed by his words, we thanked him and started talking. He told us how he’d visited the same hotel every year for twenty years, how he knew the staff and how impressed he was with its recent refurbishment. He was from NZ, and took two weeks out every year to return to what he felt was paradise, here in Penang.
“Where are you guys from?” he asked
“Wales.”
“Wow, you’ve come a long way from home. I know Llantwit Major. Wait, I have to show you this” he said, pulling out his phone and searching through his camera roll.
The World Record for the fastest sheep shearing time was held by a friend of his from NZ and us being from Wales, he naturally thought we ought to know. Enthused, he played us the video, and could hardly contain his excitement. We listened with intent, but realised that our sheep shearing skills would probably never ever come to fruition and as much as we bear the flag of Wales on our travels, on this occasion, we fell short of the mark.
We learnt that his wife loved the shopping in Penang, as much as he loathed it. So she would spend her days in the shops whilst he would get out exploring solo. He pointed out all the best places to see, and being practically a local, he certainly knew them all and set us in the right direction.
The NZ sheep shearer, as he became known to us, gifted us with the words every parent wants to hear. And for no other reason than that our family reminded him of his own family, twenty years earlier.
As I tried to picture him as a younger parent, in this very hotel, I wondered if I too, would in the future look on at younger families and remember these special times we shared with our little ones, before they grew too big. And I fought back the lump in my throat at the realisation that these little ones would not be little for long.
These are the days.
Bubbles
After missing the flight to our wedding from Perth to Kalbarri, we ended up with a bonus night to fill in Perth. We spent it at the Tradewinds Hotel, and booked a taxi to collect us at dusk the following day, making sure this time that it was big enough for all our baggage, boards and baby (read this to understand the background to this story) and early enough to get us to the airport in time for our flight.
We were greeted by a taxi driver, who instantly rushed to help us load up and then offered us water as we got in and immediately started talking. Taxi drivers, ambassadors of their turf, are such a great resource when it comes to travel education. They know everything about their area, act as unofficial tour guides, love to talk and can really shape your experience of a new place. When we think of the ride as a guided tour or little piece of travel education, rather than a means to get from A to B, the fare soon becomes a steal!
This particular taxi driver happened to be one of the kindest, most humble and most thoughtful men on the planet.
Bubbles was his nickname, he was in his late fifties and we talked the entire way to Perth airport, which was a good hour’s drive from Fremantle. He was interested in our story – we were heading off to get married on a secluded beach, with two witnesses, two children and two babies.
And we were just as interested in his.
Long before we’d ever been to Bali, I remember him telling us how it was one of his favourite surf spots, as it is for many Australians, being only a three hour flight from Perth. He’d travelled there for the surf many times, over many years, and highly recommended it to us.
Life had however thrown him an unexpected blow – he’d been diagnosed with a terminal brain tumour and he was now trying to live his life with purpose, enjoying the simple things, trying to adjust with his normal being so suddenly thrown up in the air. I was 28 at the time and was deeply moved by his courage.
We took his business card and arranged for him to pick us up on our return flight to Perth.
Flying back South, after our wedding, we looked forward to seeing him again, even though we’d only met that one time, on that one transfer. We knew, at least, that we’d be in safe hands.
Bubbles met us at the airport, and wanting to make it special for us after our wedding, he came at the ready, with an Esky full of chilled beer, and I had a tear in my eye as I was touched by his kindness. Even that he’d remember us at all, out of the many many passengers he’d taxied around over the last month, was wonderful.
But to think he’d taken the time to think about us, and wanted to mark the occasion with beers and a huge smile, well that was really special.
But it didn’t stop there.
His van was packed with picnic chairs, ready for us to stop at Perth’s King’s Park as he gave us a full city tour en route to our hotel. At King’s Park, we got out, looked out at the view of the city and shared a beer in the glorious Perth sunshine with our new friend.
There is something so special about the kindness of strangers. Something that makes you remember that there is good in this world. And something that makes me want to be just as kind to others, every single day. Even those who we only meet for a fleeting moment.
Some of the most interesting people we have met have been through our travels. They haven’t remained lifelong friends, apart from some social media engagement here and there. That’s not what’s important. What is important is that their presence made an impact on us, however small, and we often think back and remember them.
I wonder if Hurry Slowly is still swaying in the shakes, and hopefully full of expat guests during this pandemic?
I wonder how John the Mayor is doing? How are his kids? How is such an avid traveller coping with Australia’s borders being closed?
I wonder if the Sausage King of Riyadh is still bossing it in Saudi or if he has moved on to pastures new?
And how the sheep shearer is faring with NZ’s closed borders?
And Bubbles, well, wherever he is, I hope that his generosity of spirit and his kindness are replicated in us all.
Every single day.
I honestly believe that experiencing other cultures and meeting new people, through travel, language and stories like these, is the key to peace in this world.
Borders are man made. It is up to us to unmake them.
