The violin keened its melancholy into the night: Bach, Sonata No. 1, adagio. Perhaps it was the late hour or maybe the alcohol that clouded our already sleep-deprived minds, but it seemed we could almost see the notes spiraling up to the stars before plunging back down to sing wistfully of heartache. The whole thing felt a little surreal.
There we were, So and I, drinking cheap red wine in the company of a Romanian student while his Italian companion treated us to a private violin concert in the cramped sitting room of a random flat in London.
We had met the Italian in Glasgow. A chance encounter in St. Mungo’s Cathedral had led to friendly banter and an exchange of phone numbers. He was headed to London, he said. What a coincidence! So were we.
“Let me know when you arrive to London,” he said in his Italian-accented English. “I play violin for you!”
Who were we to decline such an offer?
This is the sort of thing you can’t find in a guidebook. This is what fuels my wanderlust.
Now, I’m not saying you should necessarily trust a complete stranger and follow him to his flat in the middle of the night while you’re far from home. But I am saying that, if you open yourself to new experiences and adventures, you could end up with the most amazing memories.
Take that leap out of your comfort zone, and you’ll find that the rewards are usually worth it.