 |
|
|
|
The perils of traveling with friends
When good pals become travel partners, their friendship is put to the test.
By Sarah Treleaven
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
Solo and loving it! World traveller Sarah Treleaven
|
|
Our years of brunch dates and carefree club nights failed to prepare me for the fact that my good friend and I had completely different interests: she wanted to hike in the mud and sleep on questionably seaworthy boats; I wanted to drink strong coffee at sidewalk cafés and go to the opera. And our respective idiosyncrasies -- like my penchant for belting out show tunes -- seemed much less charming in such close quarters. We started to forget why we had become friends in the first place.
In Laos, after almost three months of increasing friction and in desperate need of a break, we finally decided to go our separate ways. Christy went south to explore some islands. I went to an organic mulberry farm, where I built a mud-brick house, drank whisky cocktails and floated down the river on an inflatable tube. It was difficult to admit that we were having a better time apart.
About a month after we parted, having flown back to Toronto on separate flights, the two of us sat down to brunch together. I was bursting to tell her all of my stories. We both ordered our regular meal -- waffles for her, a BLT for me -- and paused to check that our favourite waiter was still a babe. The two of us were speaking so fast that my coffee was cold the second time I brought the cup to my lips. Amazingly, we hadn't skipped a beat. We weren't perfect friends and we certainly weren't suited to the intensity of team travel, but none of that made her any less important to me.
Need a break? Check out our top 10 travel destinations!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
 |
|
| |
OR |
|
| |
|
|
| |
 |
|
| |
|
|
|
