Perhaps the greatest delight of all my travels has come from the kindness of strangers around the world. I've traveled to almost 90 countries, and I could reminisce about small moments of generosity in all of them. America is absolutely no exception—a beautiful country that welcomed me with enthusiastic kindness when I cycled from Mexico all the way north to the Arctic Ocean in Alaska.
Here's just one small example. I was cycling on the Dalton Highway, which runs north through Alaska to Prudhoe Bay—the end of the road and the Arctic Ocean. It was an empty gravel road through a beautiful, vast, and empty land. I was happy, but I was hungry—a pretty standard state of affairs on wilderness adventures. Every few hours, a vehicle would pass in a cloud of dust and a spray of gravel. I would wave but not think much of it.
One evening, a car passed me from behind, but instead of driving on as usual, it slammed on its brakes and screeched to a halt in a cloud of gravel and dust. As I approached the car to chat with the driver, a lady wound down the window.
I passed you going the other way a few hours ago
, she said.
On the passenger seat was a pile of pizza takeaway boxes, and a warm smell of cheesy, tomatoey, garlic goodness filled the air.
It’s a long way to get pizza up here. I’ve got plenty, but it looks like you could probably use some decent food.
With that, she handed me a pizza takeaway box, said, ‘Good luck,’ smiled, and drove off.
I can’t even remember the lady’s face now. It was such a fleeting encounter, but as I stood there in the middle of the empty Alaskan Arctic, holding the takeaway pizza box, I burst into tears. Never had a pizza tasted so good. Never had such a small act of kindness made me feel more seen, cared for, and connected with the people I met on my adventures.
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