Chelsia Durkee, copywriter & creative

“Let’s make a pact. We’re going to talk to at least one person a day.”, I said. 

“Yes!”, Nora exclaimed. Her eyes gleamed and her curls bounced in agreement. 

I was in the middle of Victoria Park, London. I was with my new companion, Nora, having just met hours ago. 

London was the first of many stops on my grand solo European adventure. Armed with nothing but my imagination and a dream, I planned this two-month long journey on my own. It’s no surprise that London was the first stop on my adventure–a fitting decision given my fondness for British murder mysteries. Luckily, serendipity decided to follow me on my 10 hour red eye flight from San Francisco.

After checking into my Airbnb in Hackney Wick with my host, Pascal, we bumped into one of my neighbors. It so happened that I ran into him again on my way to find food. Too sleep-deprived to Yelp anything like a normal Millennial, I asked him where I should go for dinner. 

“Go down this alley and you will find the best Italian food outside of Italy.”, he advised.  

And so that’s how I found myself, in the hipster borough of Hackney Wick, in the Italian restaurant Natura, seated next to Nora. 

I immediately liked her confidence. She walked in, sat down at a table for one, and enjoyed her food–without her phone. This was an audacious move for 2024.  

I can read energy. I can read when someone is a good person. And I can read when someone wants to be approached. Some call it judgmental. I call it my superpower. My gut was screaming at me to say something to her. After a few moments of cat-and-mouse sideways glances, I asked:  

“What are you eating?” 

My simple question sparked our conversation about cultures, languages, and books. I told her I was a tourist in London visiting from San Francisco. She revealed that she was a French expat living in London for over a decade. We debated about getting the tiramisu–not that I needed her  encouragement–and the owners ended our lovely meal with free shots of limoncello. 

I was right about her kind spirit. She could have easily ignored me at this point, chalking up our exchange as a fun and random interaction. Instead, Nora invited me on a walk to Victoria Park, a stunning hidden gem frequented by East Londoners. 

And that’s where our bet started. Walking along the wandering pathways, the lush green lawns beckoned and bowed to our footsteps. It was getting dark, and as the moon peeked out before us, the crisp night air nipped at my skin. My rosy pink cheeks darkened to crimson, matching the shades of the flowers. The trees were adorned with fresh cherry blossoms, their elusive scent signaling the start of spring. It was in this local park that two unknown women vowed to bloom.  

We vowed to check-in each day about how many random conversations we could have. We decided to make a game out of it. How many people could we rack up? If people were our currency, I wanted to hit the jackpot. 

Nora, like many that moved to London, did so because the city presented her an opportunity to live life on her own terms. In France, she followed the expected path laid out before her. Nora majored in environmental studies–and like any good obedient adult–found a job in her field. Like many, she realized she didn’t want to be pigeonholded into a field she chose at age 21. Instead, similar to my own tumultuous career path, she changed her career and lived a life much grander than society’s expectations. After multiple attempts to change her career in France, she was finally granted a project management role in London.

London didn’t care that she wanted to live an adventurous life. London didn’t care if she wore orange or tie-dye. London didn’t even care if she didn’t speak proper English. She was still able to move up in her career from bartending. On that first night, Nora painted me a picture of London that continues to intoxicate so many travelers and locals alike. If you can’t fit in anywhere else, go to London.  

Though London’s individualistic culture is great for career mobility, it can also leave many people starving for connection. Still reeling from a global pandemic, London and most of the world, was and still is facing a loneliness epidemic. In fact, the London government estimated that about 700,000 feel severe loneliness or feel lonely most of the time. 

I was surprised when Nora told me how isolated she sometimes feels in the city. Even being approachable and sociable didn’t seem to help, as she said that others didn’t reciprocate her energy. I wondered, since when did talking to strangers become such a revolutionary act? Were polite smiles and eye contact really a foreign concept in this new social landscape? 

And so the evening ended with our pact. Me, invigorated by my own brand of Eat, Pray, Love, and Nora, ready to flirt and be seduced once again by the place she calls home. Naturally, I started our challenge at the place I would spend the majority of my time: the Tube. 

There’s an unspoken rule that one does not make eye contact on the Tube. One must bury their nose into their phone, or stare despondently into the back of other passengers’ black trench coats. The exception to this rule seems to be talking to older women reading books. Here’s a sample of some of my conversations:

Me, to a woman reading a book:

“Are you reading anything good?”

“No I’m not, but I always have to finish a book once I start it. What about you?”

“Yes I’m rereading a British murder mystery set in Hyde Park!” 

Me, to a solo traveler from Australia: 

“Hi, I’m Chelsia.”

“Hi, I’m Sven. Do you want to do cocaine with me?” etc.  

What I learned from this social experiment is that people are often happy and surprised to be approached. They want human connection, but people are hesitant to feel like a bother. We all want to feel seen and heard, even in small ways, to be acknowledged by strangers, to be reminded we are more similar than different, to be playful, and to make our morning commute more interesting, or at least more tolerable. It doesn’t matter what culture we come from. 

I had a conversation with a woman named Zahra in a pub in Kensington. I learned the name of my local grocery store clerk. I connected with other travelers on walking tours, and I complimented beautiful women’s outfits. Having someone like Nora holding me accountable transformed my confidence. Most of these conversations are not noteworthy. They involved a simple hello, how are you, and a smile. In fact, most of the conversations went nowhere. 

That’s the art of conversation. You can’t predict when it will spark a new idea, passion, friendship, or love. I don’t think it matters what you say but more how you say it. Since I was a tourist, I came in with a fresh and open perspective. Naturally, people would hear my American accent and were curious about where I was from. 

One evening on a dinner out on my own on a boat turned restaurant, I treated myself to my first Sunday roast. I asked the waitress what Yorkshire pudding. She found it endearing that I thought it was a dessert. “Wow, they don’t have Yorkshire pudding in San Francisco?”, she asked.  

What I learned is that if you lead with curiosity, you will naturally have a fun experience–and an opportunity to learn something new. Every conversation is a chance to paint your life with a new color. As I write this from my humble abode in the San Francisco Bay Area, I’m reflecting on how I want to lead my life. You can’t control your city’s culture, or another person’s energy, but you can see your hometown with a tourist mindset. I hope I continue to see life through the eyes as a perpetual student. I hope I transform myself into a foreigner in my own town.

As for my friendship with Nora, we explored the city together for the next three weeks. She took me around to explore local parks, pubs, and of course, food. I was living the quintessential London fairytale. We enjoyed cider and Thai curry at a pub in Camden. We visited Acme Farm in Henderson Park. We ate pizza along the Regents Canal with graffiti and hipsters as our backdrop. We went to a street fair in London Fields. We indulged in the best Indian food I’ve ever had. I drank my first hot toddy. We met with her friend visiting from Paris and ate Ethiopian food and drank chocolate beers. 

Now when I think of London, I think of the small, serendipitous moments that can unknowingly compose our lives. I think of profound friendship. I think of how short-term friendships have a way of getting deep quickly. That you don’t need to know someone for a long-time to build an incredible bond. That some of the best friendships happen when you allow yourself to get swept away from the infectious energy for life. It was this emboldened mindset that would travel with me throughout my whole trip. 

At the end of my three week stint, I felt like I navigated London like a local. You never know when your spirit can brighten someone’s day. On the first night of meeting Nora she said, “I’m really glad you approached me today. I’ve been wanting to make more friends and I’m glad you said hello.” I appreciate her candid honesty. I know that our lives will continue to intersect in surprising ways.  

What’s the best friendship you’ve made while traveling? I would love to hear about it in the comments below!

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XOXO,

Chelsia