In 2007, at the age of 22 and freshly graduated, I had a grand European adventure in mind. The day after my graduation, I boarded a plane to Rome and explored Italy. Months later, I found myself in London, ready to kick off my work holiday visa.
It was the quintessential Aussie plan: earn some money with temp jobs, live frugally, and travel as much as possible. By mid-2008, after a year in London, I had saved enough for one last big summer trip through Europe before returning to Australia.
I began my travels with a few weeks in Portugal and had a one-night layover in Lisbon on my way to Greece when I had a serendipitous encounter that changed everything.
Since it was a quick stop, I booked a bed in a six-person mixed dorm at a hostel. After dinner, I climbed into my bunk, hoping for an early night. About an hour later, a rowdy group of British boys returned from the common area, rummaging for their wallets. Noticing me, they called out, “Hey, girl that’s sleeping. Why don’t you come out with us?”
Their friendly banter was inviting, and I quickly agreed to join them. Once outside, Adam and I immediately connected, sharing a kiss. The next morning, short on sleep, he walked me to the train station for my flight. We exchanged numbers but I was skeptical about seeing him again.
A few months later, while in Croatia, I checked my messages in an internet café and found a note from him on Facebook. One thing led to another, and soon I was in London, spending a bank holiday weekend with him. It felt like a glimpse into what our normal life could be, and I felt sad about leaving.
As my time in Europe came to an end, my parents visited, and we planned a final weekend in Paris. They were curious when I mentioned a “friend” would be joining us.
Excited to introduce Adam to my parents, I was crushed when the day he was supposed to arrive, a fire in the Eurostar tunnel halted all travel. I lost hope of seeing him again before returning to Australia. But then, in the afternoon, I received a mysterious message from him saying he was on his way.
As I sat at dinner with my parents, he texted to say he was at a nearby metro station. I could hardly believe it.
He had spent the entire day rerouting his journey, taking a bus from London to Dover, hopping on a ferry, and somehow arriving in Paris just in time for after-dinner drinks!
I left my parents at the restaurant and dashed three blocks to Ecole Militaire station. When he crossed the street toward me, a rucksack slung over one shoulder and limping slightly from a soccer injury, I realized then, “I’m into this – I’m into you!” No one had ever gone through so much for me before.
From that moment, we became inseparable. Any doubts I had about maintaining a long-distance relationship (which we did for almost three years) dissipated as Adam always reassured me with his optimistic attitude, just like that day when he found his way to Paris. He brings that same confident spirit to all aspects of our lives. I affectionately call him “the maximiser” because he makes the most of every situation. Sixteen years and three children later, his optimistic determination remains one of his most endearing qualities.
Though I’m not typically romantic, I often reflect on the countless hostels and cities I could have visited and feel incredibly lucky to have encountered my person.
