From the stories of youth hostels, travels and a few strangers, I gradually came to understand that what we truly want to escape from might not be the crowds, but the complex things between people.
Sometimes, a memory can be suddenly reawakened many years later.
A few days ago, I came across an article about my experience staying in a youth hostel, which immediately reminded me of my two youth hostel experiences many years ago.
Back then, I probably wouldn't have imagined that many years later, what I would remember wouldn't be a famous scenic spot or a hotel I had stayed in, but rather some complete strangers:
an old gentleman from the UK, a girl from Switzerland, a female teacher in her seventies, and two young people whose names I didn't even know.
They only appeared in my life for a very short period of time.
Strangely enough, they have always remained in my memory.
It was only later that I gradually came to understand that perhaps life is not that complicated after all.
It is we who have attached too many conditions to it.
The first time I stayed in a youth hostel, I thought, "How could this be?"
The earliest time I stayed in a youth hostel was when I was studying for ACCA in the UK.
At that time, the dormitory of the training institution was not arranged properly, so I was sent to a youth hostel for a week at the last minute.
Six people in one room!
What surprised me even more was that there was actually a couple from Australia staying in the same room.
I was really stunned at that time！
Mixed gender living? How could this be?
That was my first understanding of youth hostels
Later, when I was on a business trip in Germany, I was looking for accommodation on Booking and unexpectedly found a very cheap but highly-rated accommodation.
On closer inspection, it turned out to be another youth hostel.
This time, I moved in with a try-it-out attitude.
The result was completely beyond my expectations.
A hotel may give you space, but a youth hostel might offer you a group of friends
This time I chose a room for four girls in advance.
On the first day I moved in, I got to know the two girls sharing the room.
Naturally, we went out together to look for a well-known local roast pork knuckle restaurant.
One of the girls was from the United States and seemed to be a flight attendant. The other one was from Switzerland.
Facing the huge plate of pork knuckles on the neighboring table, I suggested that the three of us share one portion. However, the Swiss girl confidently said:
"I can eat it all by myself."
She really enjoyed her meal.
Early the next morning, I saw her quickly pack up and then set off with a long and bulging travel bag on her back.
It's obvious that she is an experienced traveler.
She continued on to her next destination.
We also continued our journey.
There was no formal farewell.
It was precisely such an ordinary night that became a travel fragment that I have always remembered since then.
I have also begun to realize that the experience that hotels and youth hostels offer may not be a distinction between "high-end" and "low-end" at all.
The hotel offers you private space.
What a youth hostel offers you might be the connection between people.
In hotels, everyone usually has their own rooms and maintains a certain distance from each other.
However, in the bar of the youth hostel lobby, the atmosphere is completely different.
A simple "Hello" might get you to know a stranger.
Everyone sat together drinking beer, chatting about travel, where they came from and where they were planning to go.
No one particularly cares about your occupation, status or income, nor does anyone need to prove how well they are doing.
You are just a traveler.
And I'm just another person who is traveling.
That's enough.
I still remember that old British gentleman to this day
That night, after having dinner, we returned to the hostel lobby.
Beside the bar sat an old gentleman from the south of England.
He came back specifically to offer sacrifices to his parents' graves.
He said he would come every year and stay at this youth hostel each time.
The waiter clearly knew him and gave him quite a few free beer vouchers.
He naturally sent one to each of us.
So, we sat down beside the bar counter like this.
Chatting while drinking beer.
Later, several guests saw that we were chatting happily and gradually gathered around.
There were originally only a few people, but gradually they turned into a group of strangers.
Everyone asked each other where they were from and where they were going. Some even began to make plans to go out and play together the next day.
I still remember that the old British gentleman was particularly interesting.
When I said Los Angeles at that time, because my pronunciation was not very accurate, he corrected me several times.
I was quite puzzled as to why he was so meticulous about a single word. Later, I found out that he was actually an English teacher！
After paying respects to his parents and ancestors, he accepted a job offer and was preparing to teach English in Japan.
This is the most interesting part of the trip.
You'll never know who the stranger sitting next to you is.
Perhaps he is a teacher, perhaps he comes from another country, or perhaps he will go in another direction the next day.
You might have only been drinking beer together for one night.
Then, they each went their separate ways.
Some encounters don't need a follow-up
Many years later, I would occasionally think of that old British gentleman.
I might even think that it would have been better if I had asked for a contact information at that time.
I wonder if he went to Japan smoothly later on?
How about teaching there?
Are you having a good time?
But later on, I thought that perhaps not leaving contact information might actually be a good thing.
If we had really added our contact information, we might have exchanged a few greetings from time to time later on.
Then they each got busy with their own lives.
Gradually, there were no topics to talk about, and we stopped contacting each other. Eventually, we even became like many ordinary contacts, with only one name left.
And now, he has always remained in my memory.
He will always be the old British gentleman sitting by the bar of the youth hostel, holding a beer and patiently correcting my English pronunciation.
He is always the traveler who pays homage to his parents' ancestors in Germany and then prepares to go to Japan to teach English.
I don't know how he got along later.
But I know that we were all very happy that night.
Some people's encounters with us don't need a result to begin with.
We got to know each other, were happy, and then naturally parted ways.
There's no promise, no next time, and no deliberate maintenance.
It was precisely because there was no next time that that encounter was left intact in my memory.
Sometimes, regret is not a gap left by life.
It might also be a bit of blank space deliberately left by life, so that when we look back many years later, we still feel it was beautiful.
Traveling alone can also bring warmth
Later, another trip made me understand this point even more.
While waiting for my flight at the airport, I met a female teacher in her seventies.
When she was young, she studied in Germany. Now that she has retired, she is planning to travel to France alone.
I asked her why she was alone.
She told me that she had gone out a few times with her family and friends before, but always felt that they didn't quite get along.
So this time, she decided to set off by herself.
While waiting for the flight, we started chatting.
She told me about the thing that moved her the most during her trip in Germany.
That time, she was going to climb a very steep mountain.
There are few pedestrians on the road.
When she reached a rest pavilion halfway up the mountain, she met two young men.
They just exchanged a simple greeting, took some photos, and then the two young men continued walking towards the top of the mountain.
She rested alone for a while and then began to climb up slowly.
She climbed very slowly, step by step, with great effort.
Finally reaching the top of the mountain, she found that the two young people were still there.
She found it strange and asked:
"Why haven't you gone down yet?"
The young man replied:
"There are hardly any people here. We thought you would come up. There would be no one to take pictures of you. We were waiting to take pictures of you" Also, we were worried that you wouldn't be safe alone, so we waited for you to come down together."
That's it.
Two completely unfamiliar young people, because they met her at the halfway point on the mountain, stayed longer at the top.
Just to wait for her to take pictures of them and safely descend the mountain.
When they were finally going down the mountain, two young people were still supporting her on either side, almost carrying her down the mountain.
It's been many years since that incident.
But when this elderly man in his seventies sat in the airport and talked about this incident, he was still very touched.
I think anyone would probably be touched by such kindness.
They don't even know each other's names.
Perhaps in this life, they will never meet again.
But a very small act of kindness left many years of warmth in a stranger's life.
What we truly want to escape from might not be people
Nowadays, more and more people like to live in the mountains.
Leave the city and escape the hustle and bustle.
Some people live in small houses in the mountains, growing vegetables, drinking tea and taking walks, leading a life that seems to be far away from the crowds.
But I increasingly feel that what people truly seek might not be loneliness.
We are just tired of the complicated things between people.
Tired of utilitarian interactions, tired of the purpose in relationships, tired of endless comparisons, and tired of constantly demanding of oneself to become what others think one should be in order to fit into a certain world.
So we want to run away.
Escape to the mountains.
Escape to a distant place.
Escape to a place where no one knows you.
But when we really get there, we will find that we still long for the warmth between people.
A glass of wine, a meal, and a "Hello".
A stranger is waiting for you on the top of the mountain.
A stranger is willing to walk down the mountain with you.
What we have never needed is to be completely cut off from this world.
We just want a simpler connection.
No need for identity, no need for value, no need for exchange, and no need to think about the future.
What I envy about Sanmao is never just her romance
The late writer San Mao was once an idol for a generation!
When we were young and read Sanmao's books, many people have long yearned for the life of her and her partner Jose.
The Sahara desert, life in a foreign land, the freedom far from the familiar world, and those romantic words that touch the heart.
But later we came to know that their living conditions at that time were far from as comfortable as we imagine today.
If judged by today's living standards, it could even be said to be tough.
But why could Sanmao write so much romance from such a life?
Perhaps it is because happiness never entirely depends on how much one has in life.
Under the same living conditions, some people feel poverty while others feel freedom.
Some people see what is lacking, while others see what is being experienced.
We have more and more conveniences, but it doesn't necessarily mean that we have more happiness as a result.
Perhaps what truly matters is not how advanced life is, but whether we have truly felt life.
Life was originally very simple; it's we who have made it complicated
Looking back now and thinking of those strangers during my travels, I suddenly feel that they were all actually reminding me of the same thing.
- That Swiss girl, after she had the German pork knuckle dish all to herself, shouldered a huge travel bag and continued her journey the next day.
- That old British gentleman comes back every year to pay homage to his parents and ancestors, drink and chat with a group of strangers, and then goes to Japan to teach English.
- The female teacher in her seventies chose to go to France alone because she no longer wanted to accommodate others' travel pace.
- And those two young people, simply because they considered that an unfamiliar elderly person needed help, waited for her at the top of the mountain.
None of them have brought any practical benefits to my life.
But they made me remember life.
I also increasingly understand that we don't need every encounter to have a result, nor do we need every relationship to last.
Some people, when you meet them, you have been happy, and then say goodbye.
Some kindness, which occurs only once, is remembered for a lifetime.
This is already enough.
Perhaps, people feel too tired in life not because life itself is so complicated.
Rather, it is we who impose too many conditions on life.
We always want better hotels, larger houses, more decent identities and more valuable relationships.
We even began to measure our lives by these things.
But in the end, we realize that what we truly desire might just be a bit of freedom, a bit of ease, and a bit of care and love between people without any ulterior motives.
Life was originally very simple.
It was we who made it complicated later on.
