I was standing at the gate about to board my flight to Barcelona, when I got an update that my Airbnb host had abruptly cancelled my reservation.
"I'm sorry but I cannot host you tonight." No explanation. No Plan B.
When you're traveling on a budget (not saying you're on a budget, but really being on a budget because you'll run out of money and then you can't fly home), these are not the kind of words you want to hear. Unexpected changes in plans usually end up costing you money, not to mention the stress. It shows you what you're made of, for sure.
Well, in this particular instance, the Catalonian vote for regional separation from Spain was taking place. Everywhere in Barcelona was booked solid, or not accepting reservations. Things that were normally open were closed. There were protests. There was a disquiet in the city that was more than obvious. And I was literally out on the street.
I recalled a lovely girl I had met in the Pacific Northwest months earlier at a tiny bar on Whidbey Island. She was naively young and adorable. Not yet 21, so she couldn't really BE at the bar. But she was there anyway with her soft Spanish accent and welcoming smile. Imagine Anne of Green Gables style braids and a little backpack. This girl bicycled all over the island and wanted to learn English. She mentioned that if I were ever in Spain, I should look her up. That seemed like a long shot when we had met several months earlier. But now that I was in her region with no place to go, wasn't it the perfect time to ... reach out?
I shot her a quick WhatsApp message. Asking where her hometown was and if she had a couch/floor/sofabed/porch I could sleep on? Desperate times call for desperate measures. I was nervous to hear back and it felt like a total shot in the dark. What if she said no? What if she didn't even look at her phone until after the time that the trains stopped running? It was late and I was feeling the stress of the day and the long hours of the flight.
She got back to me within minutes. Not only was she SO HAPPY TO HOST ME but she couldn't believe I was in her country and wanted to visit her hometown.
"You're just in time to see El Castells! The Human Towers!" she replied enthusiastically. So. Many. Excited. Emoticons.
I had no idea what that meant, and I truly didn't care. The important information was that there was one bus leaving for her town and it was departing in 20 minutes. For Tarragona. A place I had never heard of, never had any intention of visiting, and was about to be my savior tonight.
With my horrifically limited Spanish, I got on the bus that I was mostly certain was heading to Tarragona, and prayed that my young friend understood that I actually needed to spend the night. Nothing spells adventure like being on an unknown bus to an unknown destination with a giant language barrier standing in the way.
Upon arriving, my friend met me at the bus station and one look at her giant smile told me everything I needed to know: I was welcome. This was exactly where I was meant to be.
Those few days with my Spanish host were my absolute favorite. The best part of my trip. For more on the festival of Santa Tecla and my adventures in Tarragona, see the next post.
The lesson I walked away with from this experience was that cancelled reservations can sometimes be a blessing in disguise. Deviating from the plan can be the most memorable part of a trip. And putting yourself out there - asking for help and kindness from strangers - can sometimes forge the strongest bonds and the lasting memories. The life-changing moments. The things that help you remember that across oceans, languages, and borders, we're all just people. Connecting and sharing.