As special as it is to travel solo, there is a real appeal to traveling alongside a special someone. As a pair, you can create new memories, add to your repertoire of references and inside jokes (“Remember that tango class in Buenos Aires…?” or “There’s nobody in the world I’d rather be on this Vespa with”), and build a language spoken only by you two. In matters of convenience and safety too, a travel buddy can be invaluable. You can share the cramped space on the two-seat sides of the plane. One can hold a spot in line at a museum while the other grabs breakfast pastries at the café. At the train station, the sentence “I’m going to the toilets; please watch my bag” could be, in the best of times, I trust you, even I love you.
In the worst of times, well, the universal truth persists: We learn about others and ourselves when we travel. Common is the horror story of a missed flight connection that led to the ending of a personal connection, or the low-blood-sugar episode that resulted in a low moment between two comrades. If you’re lucky, you have someone with whom you travel well. Maybe they don’t mind you arriving at the airport just as boarding starts, or you both prioritize eating through a destination’s Michelin guide in your budget and schedule. Whether they’re a parent or sibling, best friend or boss, mentor or pet, our soulmates in travel aren’t necessarily our soulmates in life and vice versa.
Yet so much in the world of travel can feel exclusive to only romantic couples, even if just in name: honeymoon suites, couples massages, anniversary cruises. Certainly, nothing is stopping you from ordering a Valentine’s Day dinner menu for you and your bestie. But still, it’s the principle of the thing; our friends have had to explain too often to well-intentioned hotel staff that they are not, in fact, Mrs. Hobbs or Mrs. Ortile. So there’s a nice ring to the phrase “companion fare,” a benefit offered by certain travel rewards credit cards that, with the purchase of a flight for yourself, lets you buy a second ticket at a steep discount, wherever you choose to go—and with whomever you choose.
To explore how and why we travel with loved ones, we present Companion Fare, a series of personal essays about the intersections of travel and love that falls outside the boundaries of traditional romance. These stories recall trips of various stripes: a family pilgrimage to Greece; an impromptu weekend crashing with friends in Maine; adventures with a dear pet in the Pacific Northwest; a reaffirming girls trip to far-flung Tasmania, Australia; and a “friendmoon” in the classically romantic setting of Italy’s Lake Como.
Though the motives and destinations vary, these tales are testaments to the celebratory and transformative power of travel. We hope they inspire you to invite a companion on a special trip: May you both share the armrest on the plane and patiently wait in lines for and with each other. May you come home closer than ever (or at least survive the ordeal) with enough inside jokes to make your other beloveds envious enough to book the next trip. Most important, may they watch your bag—and you—with love. —Charlie Hobbs and Matt Ortile
