The year I turned 22 was the year I decided to trek across as many countries as I could cram into a short blitz after my third year of university.
My Hollywood idol, Audrey Hepburn, said it best in the movie Sabrina, “Paris is always a good idea.” The train rolled into Paris after dark and I had only a rough idea of where I would be staying. I was a member of the International Youth Hostel Federation in those days, now called Hostelling International. Hostelling is a great option when you are on a big trek as you can meet other travellers easily, exchange information on places to see, trade currency and forge new friendships.
Showing up in Paris after dark with a crumpled street map and an address to the nearest hostel was an almost unto itself because a stranger approached and offered to guide me to the hostel. I didn’t consider the seemingly kind offer to be a threat. But after we had walked for a few blocks, I noticed the streets seemed darker, narrower and utterly abandoned. Almost as soon as that thought swelled into worry, a women melted out of the darkness and grabbled my arm. “Where are you going?” she asked. When I told her where, she said “you are going the wrong way.” She pushed the stranger out of the way and marched me in the direction where I should have been headed. I am forever grateful.
The place I stayed that night was adorned with gargoyles. Gnarly, snarly, protective beasts. I fell asleep with the moon peeping into the window over the shoulder of one of the eternally perched creatures that was gazing out onto the street below. I slept soundly and safely.
The next day was the moment of almost. My first destination was the Louvre, and I was so excited. I bought a paper bag of almonds from a street-side nut vendor and headed for the underground train. I hadn’t gotten much farther than that when the itchy, burning feeling fired under my skin and clamped my throat. I realized that the almonds must have also contained peanut dust, perhaps from a common scoop, and having been highly allergic to peanuts since early childhood, I knew I was in big trouble.
I made it to the steps of the American Hospital of Paris somehow, but I only vaguely remember the details. I remember leaving the underground in a wheezy, rashy panic, and I believe a nearby cab driver drove me from there. Medical staff surrounded me the moment I arrived, which was almost a moment too late because my throat had completely closed at that point. The treatment was as swift and effective as the exposure to peanuts was rapid and deadly. My breath graciously returned, and the swelling settled.
A moment of almost is both a treacherous and beautiful concept—when the seemingly random events of an ordinary day can be life altering. I think of the many friends who have randomly orbited into my constellation and become so very dear. I think of the happenstance that has led me to various professional projects and unexpected achievements. I also think of the day I nibbled on a few almonds from a paper bag in Paris and nearly lost my life. I say, in retrospect, embrace the unexpected but always retain a healthy dose of caution. Live long, live safe and enjoy the adventures!
