A brief inquiry into chance encounters in the digital age
I realised that sometimes it's best to savour the memory of a spontaneous connection rather than holding onto people with the strings of technology.
Image credit: Warring Abott, Getty Images
Back in the nostalgic era of the 2000s, a time when iPhones were but a twinkle in Steve Jobs' eye and our main technological wonder was watching “Playschool” on Wednesday afternoons, childhood holiday friendships held a unique charm.
The very thing that made these friendships so special was that we didn’t keep in touch. Unburdened by everyday life and school, free from mundane moments and bad hair days, we unknowingly cultivated an alternate holiday version of ourselves. While all friendships are destined to have occasional disagreements and fights, these friendships were a slice in time where everything was perfect.
While I often yearned to pack my new friends in my suitcase, reality would've kicked in if we had stayed in touch, and we'd be discussing our homework instead of playing 44-home, eating Bubble-o-bills and running around on the beach.
In today's digital era, where iPhones rarely leave our grasp and interactions feel scripted by ones and zeros, genuine chance encounters are harder to come by. The fusion of constant contact, GPS, and authenticity blurs, leaving memories tainted. That being said, let's not overlook the benefits of modern connections. From friends all over the globe offering a place to stay to new perspectives from different cultures, technology can open doors we never knew existed.
Let's delve into this phenomenon through two intriguing case studies from my recent travels to France in early 2023.
Case study 1: A French Ruby Tuesday
During my solo adventure in Rhône-Alpes, chance brought me face-to-face with Manon, a mysterious and captivating girl. I encountered Manon and her friends at a bus stop on my way to a nightclub with my two roommates. With the audacity that comes with a few drinks in my system, I approached them with an overenthusiastic "bonjour" and attempted to impress them with my French skills, declaring that I could only speak French quand je suis bourrée,"when I am very drunk." This amused them, and we became instant friends.
She exuded an extraordinary charisma, commanding the group's attention effortlessly. A natural leader, everyone was captivated by her every word, vying for her approval. She was the kind of girl who could be described perfectly in the way the Rolling Stones describe Ruby Tuesday: Don't question why she needs to be so free / She'll tell you it's the only way to be.
That night, I found myself taken under their wing to a hidden French nightclub that tourists seldom knew about. The atmosphere was electric, as Rihanna's "S&M" played on repeat, sung in lively French accents — pure entertainment. The night was a whirlwind of dance, laughter, and revelry, and as the early hours approached, the world outside seemed to fade away. The shared moments of joy and connection transcended language and cultural barriers. Amidst this spirited atmosphere, Manon's magnetic presence only amplified. Her laughter rang out like a melody, drawing everyone closer to her infectious aura. The next morning, I awoke confused with a violent hangover on a ski piste — a memorable aftermath of a night filled with adventure.
The big mistake I made was exchanging Snapchat usernames with Manon. Her once-mysterious persona unravelled before my eyes. Drunken escapades led to awkward encounters, and even heartfelt conversations revealed the chinks in our digital armour. Despite the thrilling start, our prolonged digital connection took away the charm of our initial encounter. Instead of cherishing the memory of that serendipitous encounter, I found myself dissecting and overanalysing our digital interactions, and I wished that I had let our encounter stay as a good memory.
In hindsight, I realised that sometimes it's best to savour the memory of a spontaneous connection rather than holding onto people with the strings of technology.
Case study 2: A stay in the Pays-Basque with (a different) Juliette
Recently, when I went to visit my sister in England, I felt a sudden urge for adventure. I booked flights on Ryanair from London to Biarritz, France for just €9.99. I reserved a bunk in a hostel for three nights. My plan was intentionally simple, marked by the absence of plans altogether. Three sun-drenched days lazed on the shores of the Grande Plage, wanderingly aimlessly through the streets, and revelling in the luxury of a schedule-free unaccompanied existence, where time's grip loosened.
Boarding the plane, I struck up a chat with my seatmate, a charming lady who was also named Juliette. She's from Bayonne, close to Biarritz. We hit it off very well and talked the whole flight. She casually mentioned having a spare room, and our instant friendship led her to kindly offering me accommodation.
Her household included two adorable children, Roxanne and Hector, aged 3 and 5, who took a liking to me. Juliette's partner, Clément, a remarkable chef, treated me to his exquisite culinary skills. Days unfolded lazily, basking under the sun's warm embrace on the beach, indulging my inner tourist with some souvenirs, a cappuccino at a terrasse café, and eating a Nutella waffle overlooking the Atlantic Sea. It was the first time in months where I felt that I didn't have to be anywhere for anyone. My hair lightened, freckles multiplied and skin tanned, and I felt happy and sunny.
I was also lucky enough to get a glimpse into their family life. We went on a walk in the forest and had lunch together where I tried tiramisu for the first time. I also experienced La fête de la Musique for the first time — a brilliant French tradition, where musicians perform free concerts in the street all over France. The entire town took part, and the music was loud and everybody was joyful. Walking around was like trying to navigate a mosh pit. It was great to experience new French traditions and culture.
I formed a special bond with Juliette’s children, especially her daughter Roxanne. Initially she was shy and barely spoke to me, and by the end we were singing ‘Roxanne’ by the Police together in the car (not knowing English did not hold her back as she sang nonsense words with full confidence). I taught her the colours of the rainbow in English, and she drew me several drawings that I keep on my wall in Sydney. I will miss her very much.
I have no regrets about staying in touch with Juliette. She extended an invitation to stay at her place in France, rent-free, if I were to ever return. She even offered an amazing opportunity to be an Au Pair for her children! This chance, born from our initial encounter, would not have been possible without the technology of the digital age. Technology enabled us to be able to reliably discuss and plan such visits. In this sense , the digital era can also amplify the magic of chance encounters.
Navigating the realm of chance encounters in this digital era, we may find wisdom in preserving the spontaneity that fuels our human connections. As we embrace the digital age, it’s important to cherish the authenticity of serendipity while harnessing technology's potential to enhance human connection.