I’m not a social superhero. I’m friendly, but I’m neither savvy nor successful at small talk. But I love connecting with people in a sincere way, especially when I’m away from home. It’s one of the best parts of the human experience.
When I went on vacation in England and Scotland recently, I spent the first part of my trip in London, but despite my hope of having conversations with people there, I came up mostly empty. Londoners are very much on the move and otherwise engaged. I was disappointed. Then I got on the wrong bus in Scotland.
I had registered in advance for a day tour of the Highlands through Rabbie’s Tours. Unbeknownst to me, there were two Rabbie’s minibuses at the Glasgow bus station that were going to follow the same course. The bus I lined up for was technically not the bus I was supposed to be on—when I saw a flicker of confusion on tour guide Jimmy’s face after I gave my name, that should have been a clue—but in the end, it felt like serendipity.
The bus was filled mostly with a group of agricultural science students. I was seated across the aisle from their professor and chaperone, John Campbell. I asked him if they were from the States, and he informed me they were from New Mexico State University. He was at first a person of few words, and I also got little response when I spoke to one of the students, so I felt awkward and wondered if I should keep to myself. But I decided to persist with some questions, and I shared that I was from Chicago and worked for the Tribune when the professor asked.
He then peppered me with polite inquiries throughout our ride. We talked about newspapers and the push for digital subscriptions and what the world of journalism is like, and I got a sense of his personality—fatherly but not paternalistic, very supportive of his students and their self-determination—and the personalities of some of the students. I gained an appreciation for the grazing Hebridean sheep and Highland cattle because of the students’ oohing and aahing.
I also struck up a rapport with a master’s student from the Czech Republic who seemed to be accompanying the New Mexico group. I didn’t catch her name, but we ended up having a cheerful chat about minimalist shoes because she recognized my Lem’s waterproof boots and I recognized her Vivobarefoot shoes. Kindred spirits of footwear! At one point, I enthusiastically took off one of my boots so she could take a look inside.
As a favor, I took a photo of her with her camera as she posed near a mountain we’d stopped at, and she explained that she and her brother create a photo calendar every year to give out to family at Christmas. She is part of a university program that bounces students around different countries to study and obtain worldly experience, and she had spent part of that time as a student in Scotland. I asked about the winters in Scotland, and she made me aware that they’re windy and wet but not too cold. (My pride over bravely withstanding bitter Chicago winters remains intact.) She asked Jimmy about every place we stopped at and shared her many observations of Scotland, and Jimmy declared she was more Scottish than haggis.
Jimmy, a Glaswegian, was delightfully funny—his plentiful good-natured puns never wore thin—and disarmingly sincere. He brought a lot of historical and linguistic context to the places we visited. He made everyone feel at home. Everything he taught us fills several pages in my trip journal. (I will share that “Loch” means lake and “Ben” means mountain, as in Loch Lomond and Ben Lomond.)
When the bus returned to Glasgow and we all parted ways, I waved at everyone and told them it was a pleasure to meet them. They all waved and said the same.
I had other wonderful conversations during my three-day stay in Glasgow—a heartwarming chat with a local retired teacher and a spirited exchange with a barista who made me aware of a kinetic art show that I would have otherwise missed—and even a few in London when I returned, less jet-lagged, for the last few days of my trip, including a talk with a server who taught me the merits of sourdough bread.
I hadn’t flown anywhere since 2014 because of ailing parents and a pesky pandemic. Thankfully, I found what I was looking for. The best part of traveling, wherever we may go, is connecting with people and place, especially at a time when so many of us may suffer from a sense of isolation.
Colleen Kujawa is a content editor who works with the Chicago Tribune Editorial Board. Copyright 2023 Chicago Tribune. Visit at chicagotribune.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.
