Most of us live starved for a sense of community that we seem to be unable or unwilling to create in our busy, self-centered lives. A strong sense of family is more than most Americans can hope for. While some of us find community at work, through religion, sports or professional organizations, as David Putnam so sadly documented in “Bowling Alone,” community participation has largely gone the way of the rotary phone. Most of us live with a pervasive sense of community aloneness. Covertly or overtly, the majority of Americans are far more alone than they would like to be.
When my son Alex and I departed for a six-day bike trip through Puglia, in Southernmost Italy, we were not looking for community. Sun, exercise, great food, wonderful scenery – yes. Community – not really. If you had asked me what I had expected the most memorable part of the trip, I would have volunteered; bonding with my son, sore legs, and a few additional pounds. But what I got, along with an abundance of everything I expected, was a sense of how quickly community can begin to form among nineteen randomly organized strangers.
We came in six groups: two Canadian couples, two sets of mothers and daughters, one family of five, another family of four, and then Alex and I. To the surprise of our guides we seemed to stick together, whether biking, walking or eating. And we shuffled around, changing dinner partners, and riding companions.
Is there any lasting sense of togetherness? Who knows? Will we ever travel together again? Likely not. So why would I even suggest this brief collection of strangers bears any relationship to a community?
We were genuinely interested in each other. We helped guide each other through endless mazes of tiny backcountry farm roads. There wasn’t one among us that wouldn’t stop to help another. And we talked. Meals lasted hours, some tables notably louder than others, but damn loud for a bunch of strangers. We made plans to stay in touch, to help a child moving to a new city get settled, to advise each other on the selection of our next trip, to share photos. Some of us even dove into political and philosophical conversations. No one was left standing alone. Wherever we sat with we were always welcome.
Even this temporary sense of community was an unexpected gift. Perhaps these organized adventures often end up this way, it may be the reason most people go in the first place. But as a newcomer to group travel with strangers I found this surprise to be most welcome.