As you pack your bags for an adventure there are certain things you can almost bet the farm on; you’re going to see beautiful and interesting architecture, you’ll most likely have some specular meals, you’re going to learn about a new community’s rhythm and you’ll probably get lost at least once (if you’re lucky.) What you can’t count on are the voices and stories of people you’ll meet.

They come at you in a rich tapestry of side spliting funny jokesters, fantastic rouges, eclectic artists, masterful story tellers, and maybe even a few hopeless romantics along the way.

This is is one of the quintessential joys Heather and I look forward to on every trip.

This trip brought us Allen, the Concierge of the Mozart Hotel in Prague. Originally from Wales, Allen was a postal worker in England, who, upon his retirement decided that he’d give Prague a go…..14 years later he’s still making magic happen for the guests of his hotel. And let me tell you……It’s some hotel. He seems to know every taxi driver, out of the way boutique, and must see museum in the city. And if you happen to be visiting during the holidays, he may even help you decorate your room with a tree.

Then we have Gabriel and his partner Aga who we met on the train from Prague to Krakow. Polish students on one last holiday before start of the school year, Gabriel dreaming of being a surgeon, Aga striving to finish a degree in material engineering without the wrath of her professor’s red grading pen. They were lovely, fresh faced and full of life. For the 7 plus hours of the trip we compared life in Poland to that of America. They helped select which of Poland’s colonary delights Heather and I couldn’t pass up. They spoke of their future plans, and dreams. I hope 25 years ago I looked at the world through eyes like theirs.

We next came into the orbit of The Welsh. Rachel, her adult two daughters, and their boyfriends were leaving a bar where we collectively, but completely separatly, had hoped to watch the Wales vs. Australia World Cup Rugby. Tired of expensive half liters of lager, they mentioned that we could join them at another watering hole just around the way. 3 hours later the Wallabies had suffered a humiliating defeat, and we’d become honorary members of a loving family.  We spilled out into the Rynek for pictures, hugs, and promises to stay in touch. I pray we do.