‘Don’t Talk to Strangers’ — a phrase that I, and I am sure many others, had battered into them from a very young age. My parents certainly did not misuse this phrase. While growing up in an estate in South London, one cannot expect that everyone you meet will want to be your friend. However, in the age of online dating and internet friendships, society as a whole seems to be embracing the idea of opening up to strangers. Nowadays, there are a variety of ways to connect with people you would not necessarily meet in your day-to-day life. But have you ever considered that strangers may form an integral part of your travel experience? The uncertainty of who you will meet, and how they may shape your travel experience is the fundamental reason why you should not plan your travel and embrace an air of spontaneity as you globetrot. My trip through Scandinavia showed me that not knowing what’s around the corner can open up unexplored sides of travelling.
I am not saying that one should always trust someone they have never met before. In fact, this is how my first, unplanned travel story began. As with most things travel-related in 2022, I stumbled across a website offering free board and food in exchange for part-time work on TikTok. After ending a long-term relationship, a year-long dose of a lethal strain of Freshers’ Flu, and as a firm believer of the philosophy ‘flights, not feelings’, it was love at first ‘site’. Maybe it was this initial infatuation that made me ignore a few red flags and somehow set on working at a farm that was 45 minutes away from Stockholm, Sweden. There is nothing not to love about it. It would be an endless supply of lake swimming, fika breaks, and cinnamon buns galore, set amongst a gorgeous Nordic backdrop. The idea almost sounds too good to be true, especially if all I needed to pay for was a £50 return flight to enjoy a month in the mountains.
With two days left before my departure to Arlanda, I realised that it was, indeed, too good to be true. The excitement of such an adventure may have led my common sense astray when I realised that the place I would be working for had no reviews, and that I did not know how to get there from the airport. It was only when I asked for my host’s Facebook for further contact, that I found…a faceless profile. As alarm bells echoed in my head, it dawned on me that I had a non-refundable flight into Scandinavia that was leaving less than 48 hours after my panicked withdrawal from this job. The most logical thing to do in this situation would have been to simply not go, but again, my lack of common sense told me to get on the flight. Maybe this was the first time that this mindset has yielded positive results. So, I redirected my flight to Copenhagen but kept my departure from Stockholm, and set myself the challenge of travelling between Denmark and Stockholm on a budget by trusting strangers.
As if by a miracle, I found myself two days later with no phone battery outside Nørrebro station with no direction to a hostel or even a tent, surrounded by street signs that look like the text you would find in Flying Tiger on Magdalen Street. After circling the same street for a few hours with a rucksack that made me look like a Year 9 on their first Duke of Edinburgh expedition, I found the hostel and could finally charge my phone. As I posted a somewhat tired BeReal at a small hostel kitchen table three hours after it went off, two girls came into the same room speaking Norwegian. Thanks to Duolingo and a childhood obsession with the TV show ‘Skam’, I could tell them that ‘the owl is on the bed’ in glorious mispronunciation, but nothing else. Much to my embarrassment, their English was leaps and bounds better than my own T-dropping, quickly-spoken Croydon accent, but were nonetheless polite about my attempt to speak to them. They had been interrailing and had their fair share of unplanned travel experiences, from spontaneous tattoos to nights in Berghain, and were happy to teach me the art of the unplanned. They invited me to a well-recommended bar, and looking to find a better end to a stressful week of attempting and failing to plan travel, I graciously accepted.
The thing about Copenhagen, and probably the rest of the world, is that a Tuesday night is not the right one to go out on. The streets were empty. This was until we heard a shout from a few streets away. Following the sound led us to a group of Swedish twenty-somethings. They were eager to integrate us into their group and persuade us into going to the only club open in the entirety of Denmark on a Tuesday night. I would remark on the appearance of the club but a member of the group, ironically a police officer back in Sweden, dragged me straight to the bar to see who could down a pint faster before I could look at my surroundings. I accepted a few more challenges to demonstrate that British people could, indeed, hold their drink. We stayed in the club until daylight and jumped into the nearby sea canal to watch the sunrise. The memories with people I would have never met would have not happened on a planned trip.
Even though the people you meet on your travels will likely never progress beyond a follow on Instagram, the moments that you share with these people stretch beyond this. It was at this moment that the philosophy of Danish ‘Hygge’ first struck me — the concept of taking time away from the daily rush to be at peace with few people around you, and living for the present moment. This was the first time I had backpacked alone and the lessons I took from trusting strangers have been crucial to the joys of travelling beyond Copenhagen. Hygge is a great principle to have in mind when travelling. Taking comfort in subtle pleasures like swimming outdoors, wrapping yourselves in a jumper after, and watching the sunrise, are what truly make an invaluable travel experience. Travel could, therefore, be an unplanned embrace of spontaneity where you appreciate small pleasures and the kindness of the people you meet.