BY JOELLEN COLLINS
Two weeks ago, I experienced one of the loveliest times of my life. I write about it here not just to share travel stories (we all have good ones, I’m sure), but to share an experience which reminded me of my good fortune, even with the unexpected events and situations of my now long life. As a travel bug, I certainly have had times where odd events or timing have seemed perilous in another country, but often the missteps have resulted in unique and positive experiences and more appreciation for the good people one encounters everywhere in the world.
I flew on a very cold, early-morning flight to John Wayne Airport in Newport Beach. I often travel alone, but this time it seemed more daunting since I had arranged for a rental car to attend this particular celebration and then wend my way up the California freeways for more stops to visit dear friends I haven’t been able to see for long periods of time. Even though I learned how to drive on the Hollywood Freeway eons ago, I experienced abject fright at the speed and hostility of too many lane-changing drivers and closed exits being repaired.
When I had lunch with a friend in Burbank, the “small town” of my teenage years, I understood why driving has changed. Like the nearby highways, Burbank, though now embodying an energetic Hollywood flavor with its proximity to film venues, seems crowded.
Mixed with minimal times of trepidation was the joy I felt with all the people I encountered on my trek, naturally with friends but also with hotel and service station employees who were always courteous to me, possibly because I am a “nice old lady.”
An experience which illustrates just one of my unexpected pleasures occurred on the morning after the day I arrived at a lovely hotel recommend by a friend. I awoke feeling a bit iffy after my travels, too many conversations with Apple when my computer ceased working, and thus no dinner. However, when I stepped into an elevator going down to the lobby, a beautiful young woman in a hot-pink sari simply dazzled me into a big smile. She mentioned that she was attending a wedding and perhaps I’d like to see more saris on the guests gathered just outside. Thus, I accompanied some of the handsomely clad men and exquisitely gowned women as they greeted the groom, arriving in a white convertible. (In India, he might have been astride a white horse.) I was introduced to the bride and groom’s mother, and after several friendly conversations where I felt compelled to tell them how memorable my time in India had been, they even asked me if I would join them at the reception. I had other plans awaiting me, but I was moved by their friendly and generous spirit.
The bright and gorgeous colors of the saris and the warmth of the women who wore them changed my mood and set a richly-hued tone to the rest of my California visit. What a vibrant start!
