Several weeks ago we went “to America” for an orthodontist appointment and groceries. The kids and I stopped one final place and I lost my head and stayed about five minutes too long.
“Oh my gosh, you guys!! I don’t know what I was thinking! We had plenty of time to get in the ferry line, and now we may not make it!”
We zipped out of the Safeway parking lot and nervously bolted to the ferry terminal. Until the cars ahead of us were going 30 MPH.
We pulled up to the kiosk and had lost our reservation. You have to be there 30 minutes ahead of time; we were late by three minutes.
Put in the standby line, we counted the cars in front of us and I sat there stunned that I had been so loopy. No way would we make it on board that far back in the line.
I saw some friends a few cars ahead, and on my way to say hello to them, a visitor to the island lowered her car window and asked if I thought we’d make it on the ferry. We got to talking and I instantly enjoyed her. Not only did I feel a friendly kind of chemistry and comfortability with her, I also loved the fact that she was traveling here alone, in the winter, on a whim. That isn’t the norm. Her curiosity of place and her motivation to see a little corner of the world in its least desirable season showed me a lot about her. I liked that.
We made it on the boat a half-hour later! I think ours was the second-to-last car. Shwoo!
I couldn’t wait to have her over or show her parts of the island I wanted her to see. I also glommed onto her solo status – familied people are a lot harder to have spontaneous adventures with, and solo travelers can jump at any chance they want to take.
The next day, our son was sick. Dang. Okay, in a few days I’ll show her around. The following day, I got sick. Okay, in a few days I’ll be better. I wasn’t.
As the days unrolled, she and I emailed each other. I lived vicariously through her adventures here as I lay in bed. I was impressed by the full scope of exploring she did in her time here, and her boldness to do it by herself. Orcas Island in the winter is already exponentially introspective in comparison to anything on the mainland. To experience all that introspection by oneself is remarkably rare, at least for visitors.
In the end, I showed her nothing. I only got better the last day she was here. It was only during her final half-hour on the island that I got to know her as we hung out in her little cabin at Bob and Kandiss Susol’s place and at the ferry landing, awaiting her departure. In fact, I almost made her miss her ferry again as we were walking and talking. The ferry before hers never unloaded cars, as I assured her they would. So loading began as we were strolling a little distance away. We sprinted to her car, and she got in right as her line began to move.
And that was it. This new friendship will have a different formula. Perhaps we’ll stay in touch online – I hope – and/or perhaps we’ll connect somewhere else in the world.
Nevertheless, she’s one of those people I’ll feel comfortable with no matter how much time goes by.
Sumeeta is her name and she just happens to write as well. She has a blog about her solo travels, and she just posted a great article about her stay here called “A Guide to Visiting Orcas Island.”
Maybe we’ll be traveling grannies together someday…
