I love to travel. It's not just about the places you see or the things you do. It's also about the people you meet.
"Where are you from?" is one of the best conversation starters when you're traveling. That simple question just led to one of the most surreal experiences of my life.
My wife and I were on the ferry from Split to KorĨula when a family sat down next to us, and we started chatting.
"So, where are you from?" the dad asked.
"Cleveland," my wife replied.
"But I grew up in Philly," I added.
"Philly? Me too," he said, giving me a fist bump.
"Where in Philly?"
"The Northeast."
"Same! Where did you go to high school?"
And that's when things got downright weird.
We didn't go to the same high school. As it turns out, he went to Central and I went to George Washington. But we both graduated in 1990, attended the same middle school, and discovered we have dozens of mutual friends. He even remembered my middle school homeroom number, a fact I had long forgotten.
Forty years after leaving Baldi Middle School, we finally became friends … on a ferry in Croatia. All because one of us asked a fellow traveler, "Where are you from?"
The world is a big place. Sometimes, though, it has a funny way of reminding us just how small it really is.





