How a surprise meeting transformed my lonely journey to Rio
Chapter 22: Because sometimes the universe has better plans for you
Welcome to Chapter 22 of Love at First Flight, my round-the-world solo travel memoir.
In this chapter, I discover that sometimes the journey you’re dreading can be the most surprising.
A fuzzy announcement over the speakers in Spanish disturbed my reading. Confused, I caught the eye of a lady sitting near me, who explained:
"We have to get off the bus - they're refuelling it."
My heart sank. I’d boarded the bus that morning in the desert heat of San Pedro, dreading this 24-hour trip back to Santiago. This time I was travelling alone - my friends had continued north to Bolivia while I had a flight to catch to Brazil.
Relieved that no-one sat next to me, I’d stretched out across two seats. After a few hours, my tablet's battery died and I’d turned to my Anthony Bourdain book for entertainment instead. And now we were stopping.
Exiting the vehicle along with the rest of the passengers, I made my way to the nearby bus station. It was 8pm and my stomach was rumbling.
A helpful stranger
Luckily, inside the building was a dinner station, a bit like a school canteen. Several buses had stopped here so it was full of hungry passengers. We waited in line, perusing the food on offer. When I pointed to the lady serving that I wanted spaghetti Bolognese, she replied in Spanish but I didn’t understand.
“She’s saying you need a tray,” said a voice behind me in the queue.
I looked up to see a tall, dark-haired man. Handing me a plastic tray, he grinned cheekily at me and I couldn’t help smiling back. Wearing a t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, with tanned skin and tattoos, he looked like a traveller, like me.
Shyly, I thanked him, took my tray with my spaghetti dinner and found a table. As I tucked into my pasta, I wondered which of the buses this handsome guy was on.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him sit down at a table on the opposite side of the seating area. The next time I looked up, he was looking over and smiled at me again. I beckoned for him to join me. This journey was going to be lonely, so I may as well have some company for dinner.
My unexpected dinner companion
“May I join you?” he asked coyly as he approached my table.
“Of course!” I replied and he set down his tray beside mine.
As we introduced ourselves and started to chat, we laughed often. I liked that he didn’t take himself too seriously.
José was from San Pedro. He was in his early 30s, like me.
“I’m tired of travelling,” he told me. “I want to find someone special and build a home with them.”
We walked back to the buses and I was delighted to discover he was on the same one as me. José said most of the people around him on the bus had alighted at previous stops.
I settled back into my seat and reopened my book. There were still over 12 hours to go until my final destination of Santiago, so I’d be getting through a lot of it. José took his seat a few rows behind mine.
As the bus continued its journey, the conductor distributed bags of snacks to the passengers. I tucked into mine. A Hollywood movie dubbed into Spanish played on small, hissing TV screens above our heads.
Then the driver turned off the lights, so we could go to sleep for the night, but I kept my small light on so I could continue reading.
In the darkness
I jumped, as I felt something small land on my chest and grabbed it as it fell down the front of my vest.
Fishing it out, I saw it was a chunk of cookie from the snack bag. I looked around to find the perpetrator. José grinned at me. He motioned for me to come and sit next to him. This journey wasn’t going to be so boring after all.
Over the next few hours, we continued talking. José told me about his family and the meaning behind his tattoos. He asked me what I wanted my future to look like and I confided that I wanted to fall in love again. I told him things I’d barely admitted to myself, let alone a total stranger. We hugged and eventually started kissing.
“Riiicoooo,” he sighed happily, looking me in the eyes.
I asked him what it meant and he said it’s a Spanish word meaning rich, delicious, magnificent. At some point, we drifted off.
“There must be more than this for us, no?” he muttered, almost in his sleep.
Cold light of morning
I awoke with his arms around me. But in the morning light, everything felt different.
It had been a wonderful evening and we swapped contact details, but it seemed clear we weren’t likely to see each other again. We were from the other sides of the world after all.
My heart felt heavy as I watched José leave the bus at a coastal city called La Serena.
A few hours later, alone again, I arrived at Santiago to catch my flight to Brazil.
City of illusions
At Rio de Janeiro airport, I thought I saw him. But that was impossible. After checking into my hostel, I headed to the famous Ipanema Beach.
Lying in the sunshine, I gazed over at Sugarloaf Mountain. Helicopters buzzed and birds of prey circled overhead. Bronzed male bodies strolled past me. But all I could do was think of José and try not to cry.
I kept seeing his ghost. In the curve of a stranger's shoulders, the tilt of a head turning away. It was as if his energy walked alongside mine.
Was I going mad? I already wanted to return to South America and I hadn’t even left yet.
Learning to see
That evening, I began to understand what was happening. Perhaps what I'd been seeing was some kind of vision, guiding me towards what I needed.
Meeting José had awoken something in me. After months of amazing solo travels, I wanted a partner in life again, someone to share my experiences with.
Lying in my bunkbed, I wrote in my journal:
What happens to your dreams if you don't follow them? Do they dissipate like a rainbow gently disappearing from the sky - or do they gnaw away at you, eroding your soul, little by little, every day?
Closing the notebook, I logged onto my laptop. A message. From José.
He’d felt a strong connection with me too and he wanted to see me again. I couldn't help smiling.
Riiicoooo.
If you enjoyed this chapter, tap the ❤️—it helps others discover the story and makes me so happy. I’m Claire and every week I share heartfelt travel stories, insights and destination guides inspired by my world travels.
I still can’t believe I did a 24 hour journey by bus - twice! Have you ever done a long journey like that by yourself? Where was it? I'd love to hear your experiences in the comments.
Next week, I share a piece I wrote in Bali while healing from heartbreak, where I realised the biggest barriers to love are the ones we build ourselves.
Ahh yes, the universe!!!