by Kathy Clark Smith

Created on: June 17, 2009

Trekking through new territories and experiencing new things has cemented my hopeless addiction to travel. I love trading my predictable daily routine for one of adventure and excitement. One of my favorite parts of exploring new frontiers is meeting the people that become part of my holiday memories.

After a short flight to our favourite weekend getaway destination, we were sitting at an outdoor cafe on a busy downtown street when a man approached us peddling flowers. I kindly refused him and he hesitated, smiled shyly and handed me the flowers anyhow. Even though I suspected it was a premeditated act since my boyfriend immediately doled out some cash, there was just something innocent about his gesture that touched me. What girl wouldn't be flattered by a random gift of flowers? Oddly enough, late the next night and miles away, we suddenly heard "Hi, remember me?" We took a second look and smiled when we realized it was the Flower Man. I'm sure he'll never know that I'm writing about his sweet gesture now.

My boyfriend's kind heart prompted him to give money to several outstretched hands until he realized he couldn't give to everyone. But there was one man that was memorable. He approached us, arms outstretched with his palms up, wanting to perform a magic trick. We began talking and he asked if I had any children. "Four boys" I said proudly. His eyes widened in surprise and he excitedly announced he was going to teach me the trick to show my boys. His friendly demeanour and outgoing personality had us laughing and we later wondered what his story was. Oddly enough, he's now part of mine.

On our first night there, we decided to explore Chinatown. We were wrong in our assumption that the area offered evening entertainment. Instead, we wondered aimlessly on the deserted streets without any clear direction. We realized we were entering a questionable part of downtown when we walked past a bustling homeless shelter where a large number of men and women were mulling around outside. The writer in me mused at the riches of material that must exist in their stories.

Flagging a taxi, we requested a venue offering live music and I was delighted at the mention of a blues bar. We arrived before the crowd and landed a great table. Soon we began talking to two women next to us and immediately felt a mysterious bond to them. I learned they were both approaching fifty, single and had no children. We continued chatting when one of the women gave no explanation as she earnestly opened my hand a placed a rubber wrist band that had a web address engraved on it. Back home, I visited the site and discovered it was dedicated to her young nephew who had died of complications associated with a chronic disease. It was heartbreaking and I considered the family broken by grief that crossed my path. I look back on the unmistakable connection made with these two women and wonder if there is a deeper reason for it.

Back home, we went out for lunch in a local restaurant and instantly missed the fresh variety of food that was recently available to us. We loved our adopted city, the friendliness of the people and superb service everywhere we went. The beauty of the nearby ocean and the stimulating energy of downtown simply clinched the deal. Nevertheless, I woke up smiling the next morning, grateful for the memories of a fabulous getaway still fresh in my mind.

I'm revitalized, energized and ready to take on the world. Hmmm, I wonder what's around the next corner . . .

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