Nathan: Met in line to board my flight to Paris in the Barcelona airport. I asked the couple standing behind us in (broken) Spanish if we were boarding by rows and if I was in the correct group. When he heard me speaking English we started talking about Barcelona and Paris… he’s from Chicago, going to school in Colorado, and studying abroad in Paris, heading back from a week’s vacation to Barcelona. Friendly and unassuming, lanky, a narrow face, awkward-college-guy posture, messy hair and a piercing somewhere, maybe a gauged ear, I don’t remember. When we disembarked in Paris ORLY he waited for me to help me find the bus. I spotted the sign for the bus right out of the terminal… but I let him be manly and take me the wrong direction for a bit. On the bus we talked about sights to see in Paris, learning new languages and our study abroad experiences. Nathan loves Paris. He stuck around to see Caroline and I through the first metro transition. “I have no plans, I can hang around a bit longer…” He laughed at Caroline and I bumbling around and giggling in exhaustion and sisterly affection… but he had to hop a turnstyle, too, so he had no room for gloating. Suddenly we parted. I never asked Nathan for help.  I think he just needed someone to be with for a while.

On the plane: I sat between one man who mumbled to himself, fidgeted nervously and stared out the window the whole ride. The gentleman on the aisle was perfectly still, reading a book written in Spanish… I had the impression they knew each other but they didn’t speak during the flight so I’m not sure. When we landed, the man on the aisle let out a huge sigh of relief and crossed himself. I laughed and said something to the effect of, “we made it,” in Spanish. We shared a brief exchange. He would rather stay on the ground.

Adam: Adam was also staying at the Three Ducks hostel, where Caroline and I landed my first night to relax a while before bed. We were on the patio and he was, I think, pretty stoned. Originally from the States (Texas?). What brings you to Paris, Adam? “I just got pissed at life. So I said, fuck that. And i’ve been traveling around Europe…” Do you think this journey has helped you gain some insight? “Not really. Well, I guess I’m about ready to go home, get a job… stay in one place for a while.” He asked if Caroline and I wanted any of the baguette and brie he was eating. We politely declined. He then began tearing off hunks, putting cheese on them and handing them to us while we talked. He alternated French and English between Caroline and I… It was good cheese. I enjoyed sitting in the corner of a bench watching foreigners smoke and converse in French after Caroline left. I don’t speak French, and I don’t smoke, and I was exhausted from the day’s explorations. It was peaceful to be isolated there.

Carlos: It seemed that Carlos slept through the entire flight back to Barcelona: head back, mouth open. When we landed and he awoke and looked around, smiled, I asked him in Spanish if he had slept well. He’s originally from Barcelona, and told me with great animation and suspense the story of traveling with his friend in France and Italy, nearly missing trains, dashing after buses. “We woke up and he says, ‘Aw, we missed it, too bad, you know, maybe some other time,’ but I said, ‘No. Never surrender!’ We looked at each other… here we go again!” Carlos was a marvelous talker. Upon learning that I was studying architecture, he launched into Gaudí, the city, the wonders of it all. Carlos loves Barcelona. He accompanied me to the baggage claim. “I never worry about flying. I think, if we crash, and I die, so be it. If I somehow caused the plane to crash, that might be a cause for stress. But I have no control over it. My father says, Death is the last great adventure.” Did he know, as he slept over the snowy Pyrenees, that I had speculated about how long it would take to hike from the wreckage to civilization? Or perhaps he saw my distress on the plane and misattributed it to the altitude. I am not afraid of flying, but I ache from a succession of arrivals and departures; Carlos, sunny, comical and empathetic, comforted me. He disappeared with a smile and a wave.

I met so many interesting people in the span of one weekend. I can’t possibly begin to explain how fantastic the whole trip to Paris was, the amazing places I saw, and the way the experience stands ensconced in some sort of mystical significance in my mind. I keep coming back to these encounters, the stories all piled up on planes, crammed into busses and crummy hostels. Such characters, all of them. They are part of something I am living in right now, through the looking glass.