Meeting up with an old travel companion in Lisbon reminded me how important our travel friendships are.

That day, I meet Adrian—one of the strangers from the car travelling from Lisbon. We do all the things one does in this sun-kissed part of Italy: swimming, eating sweet gelato, drinking crisp Aperol Spritz cocktails, and, later in the evening, walking the city's bustling streets. In another act of spontaneity, we buy train tickets to Cefalù, a small town on the coast. Wide-eyed, we gaze out the train window admiring the view of the small Italian town perched on a hill overlooking the water. Adrian, a recently graduated architecture student, insists we must see one of the town’s main cathedrals, a UNESCO-designated site and part of the Arab-Norman Palermo route. Fine by me. I’m a go-with-the-flow kind of girl and if someone adamantly recommends something, I’m in. Sitting together in the Cefalù Cathedral, we fall silent just observing the magic of a place that combines complexity, history and beauty.

My Italian adventures unfold. Drinking in views of the sparkling Mediterranean ocean, eating unforgettable ham and cheese sandwiches, wandering through Rome gasping at fountains and slurping to-die-for fresh pasta. We talk about Adrian’s family in Mexico City and his love for Canada—the place where he attended high school for a bit and my home country.

It’s when I witness a certain type of kindness that I really appreciate the value of travel friendships. Adrian accompanies me as I step outside to call my family in privacy and away from the hostel noise so that I won’t have to be alone in the street at night. I’m far away from home, not to mention a young, solo female traveller, and those small gestures can mean the world. Plus, I might add, his easygoing nature enables my wanderlust. Never once does he object to my spontaneous ideas or diversions to our routes. As traveller, we stumble across new friends in other parts of the world and when we do, a good scenario means we have company and connection during our travels. With Adrian, I’m feeling like I’ve hit a jackpot beyond just that. Our goodbye in Rome feels difficult.

But two years later, we meet again.

I step out of the Uber and immediately I feel confused. Why did Adrian want to meet here? There are a few office buildings and homes but apart from that, nothing much. I look for the address but I don’t find it. Do they write them differently in Portugal? Instead, I find a cafe, send him my location, and order myself a brigadeiro, a bursting ball of chocolate. Then, a familiar smile. It’s Adrian.

Here we are in Lisbon where Adrian is now living and working as an architect. I’m a journalism student and have recently moved to Madrid to study. So, of course, Lisbon being less than two hours by plane, I’ve made the trip and here I am. After a hug and staring at each other in disbelief, he asks, "Do you want a coffee?" This is something I can never forget about our times together: there will always be many stops for coffee.

I’ve done no planning so my trip is entirely in Adrian’s hands. I’m grateful for that. He’s been here for a while and knows the good spots. I quickly learn just how well he knows them. On multiple occasions, a friendly hand outstretches and brings Adrian in for a hug. Another pats his shoulder. The familiar faces and friends seem to appear everywhere. Travelling with a local—yet global—friend feels magical.

I get a more intimate sense of Portugal this way. Dinner in a Mexican restaurant (his former workplace) means a warm welcome and the best customer service. We go book shopping after brunch and again, a new friend appears. Nights on the town aren’t lonely or intimidating but instead, met with an instant group of friends to party with including my local guide who knows the owner (of course). And then, there’s my most memorable moment of all in the small seaside town of Cascais. We arrive to see the beach and decide to walk a bit before getting dinner—shrimp sitting in magnificent dripping olive oil. We're walking around just wandering when Adrian checks the time. Just before 7:30 p.m.

“Do you mind if we go to mass?” he asks. We’re right beside a church.

I don’t mind and before I know it, I’m filing into a pew in a packed church filled with the old, the young, and many, many families. I’m listening as the priest conducts the mass in Portuguese. I watch as Adrian and the people around me listen attentively, kneeling and then shaking hands.

I can't even begin to count all the people who kissed my cheek, asked me questions and welcomed me during my stay in Lisbon… all because I was Adrian’s friend. I wouldn’t have had these experiences otherwise. Despite being in a different country surrounded by a foreign language, I felt at home. Prior to this trip, Adrian was a friend with whom I had only spent a mere two days. That could have just been a friendship out of circumstance and convenience. Travel together, keep each other company, and see the sites. But leaving the door open for continued friendship allowed for even more meaningful experiences. Now he’s my long-distance travel friend.

When solo travelling, the connections you make with other travellers grow quicker than usual, and the trust you build is heightened due to being in unfamiliar environments together. When you stay in touch after those travels, it just gets even better. In reuniting with Adrian, I learned that reconnecting with travel friends allows you to grow and learn so much from each other. These relationships are different from others in that they’re not a part of your regular life… but they also provide more comfort and familiarity than new friends you meet upon your arrival. Plus, we have one thing in common for sure: our will and need to travel.

I was recently in a hostel in Marseille. There, I met two friends from Australia and Canada and we spent the weekend swimming, laughing, eating traditional pizza (half cheese, half anchovies) and hiking to Calanque de Sormiou. As we walked back from our day of hiking, I looked at them ahead of me and thought to myself: “I can't wait to meet them again. I don’t know where or when, but I know I’ll have a temporary home whenever they are.”