Recently I traveled alone to the island nation of Taiwan.

Me pointing at Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall.

In beginning my solo adventure I remembered posts from my former Japan sidekick Rob Milchling’s blog, where he often spoke about traveling, often alone. He has taken many solitary trips around the East Asian region and beyond. I never actually read most of his posts about traveling, perhaps out of jealousy that he was blogposting faster and more efficiently than me, but I assumed these entries’ existence meant I had many lessons to learn on my own upcoming trip.  I was right.

Trying “more spicy.” Photo credits: Tal Duer.

One lesson of note that I swallowed fast is the impermanence of friendships in the backpacking world. There’s some international atmosphere that connects all travelers, generally fueling their good nature toward one another, making them giving, supportive, and forward, especially when they socialize or even party together.

One night in Taiwan stands out in particular.

A club in Taipei welcomed the confused huddle of eight foreigners or so who came from my hostel. A ginger Scotsman was among this group, a man who reminded me of my close friends back home (forcibly, in particular, of another ginger of British descent) with his outward personality, dominant club behavior and refusal to take life seriously. He spotted me by the bar and, over the pounding of the EDM, instantly declared me Vice President of “McCloud Holdings,” he being the Founder and CEO.

“We manage investments!” he roared.

Before I could ask my new boss a single question, he had bought me a Jack and Coke and a Jager Bomb, at the same time, in a club where drinks were about $10 USD apiece. He promptly chugged his own Jager bomb, and, since he paid for mine, I followed suit.

When I tried to thank him, he waved it off, saying “it’s on the company credit card!”

In the next ten minutes, I met the other Vice President, we mingled with the club’s VIPS, and we made sure to always express shock when women didn’t recognize him.  People starting parting the way for us (or perhaps I was doing that myself).

Hualien, Taiwan.

My attempts to return a drink, feeling completely obligated to do so, even as he swooped in on my dance partner, were thwarted by his subsequent and mysterious disappearance (as he later told me, he didn’t remember whereto). That was all I saw of him that night.

Despite this bonding experience, and despite our happily reminiscing of it the next morning at the hostel, there was a mutual understanding that our entire friendship had run its course. We’d had our fun together, and we were going our separate ways – he to Hong Kong, me back to Japan. To even add each other on Facebook could be beating a dead horse, a numbing treatment to the terminal illness of our brief friendship.  I have mixed thoughts on this, as I’ve maintained good friends abroad through social media alone.

Regardless, I’ll never see that guy again, although I feel equally certain that if we ever lived, worked, or schooled in the same realm, we’d be the best of friends.  Rip the band-aid off, and it’s on to the next adventure with new people.

Tianxiang, Taiwan.

Accepting that all of these connections are short-lived in practice, but long-lived in spirit, is a mental adjustment I am still making when it comes to traveling alone. As I got the hang of it in Taiwan, I was able to follow my own ambitious agenda, seeing and doing more exciting things, like spending a night in the mountains listening to monkeys wrestle, or meeting even more special people. It helped me have more fun, and it’s more exciting than it is sad.  That’s the nature of traveling.

It’s a beautiful life.

Taipei 101

Thanks for reading.  Follow more on Twitter or Instagram @gregnasif.

Expect more Facebook photos in four months or so.