And then there were two

As hoped for, the seas calmed as soon as we had bits of land on either side of us. So to celebrate, we spent our first land day (in Ketchikan) on a boat.

The tour was of the Misty Fjords. So named because they are almost always shrouded in clouds of mist. It makes sense given Ketchikan boasts the title of being the 4th wettest place on earth, with annual rainfall measured in feet. We’ve been to Ketchikan twice now. If you’ve followed our travel tales, it will not surprise you that we have yet to see it rain in Ketchikan. And there wasn’t even the barest hint of mist in the fjords today. Partly sunny and dry all day. The locals were mistified. So goes Travel with Toni and Rob.

The Fjords were still beautiful, if not sadly missing the eerie coziness of a low, damp, grey ceiling. Instead, we were treated to the Alaskan version of Yosemite, were Yosemite Valley filled with water at depths over 150 feet. Sheer granite cliffs, waterfalls, evergreens…the Alaskan fjords had the entire Yosemite package minus the deer and coyotes but plus the seals and one whale. And hardly any people and no snack bars or tour buses. Having not visited our dear Yosemite in over eight years, Rob and I both agreed that seeing Alaska’s Misty Fjords will tide us over for at least a few more years.

However, as beautiful as the scenery was, it is not likely what I will remember first when reflecting on our trip to Alaska’s Un-misty Fjords. No, instead I shall remember this:

Rob and I have been traveling with Piglet our entire married life. Piglet joined our family on an early date to Disneyland. He is on his sixth photo album and has met people and posed with iconic landmarks all over the world. Around Year 3, while traveling along the Blue Ridge Parkway in the Shenandoah Valley, I was forever cured of any embarrassment of posing with Piglet when two teenage boys literally pointed and laughed at me while Rob was aiming the camera. Ever since, I have boldly carried Piglet front and center and posed him unabashedly on many tours and sightseeing trips. People often ask about him, assuming I am either an awesome parent or a young-at-heart grade school teacher. I have seen many a confused cocked head as I reveal I am, in fact, neither.

We occasionally see other folks vacationing similarly, most often with a Flat Stanley. We still exchange Christmas cards and photos with an English couple we met in the mid-90s while hiking Bryce Canyon in Utah. Redvers the Bear lives in England and quite fancies holidays in Cyprus. He and Piglet are old chums.

Today, though, was different. The other woman and I were so excited to discover a kindred spirit, we never exchanged names. Instead, we were unilaterally focused on exchanging stories and marveling at the idea of Pooh and Piglet—BFFs (Best Friends Forever)—finally intersecting on their travels.

I first spotted Pooh as he was being lovingly and carefully cradled by his caretaker. They were wandering about the boat, taking in the unmisty scenery. I grabbed Piglet and my camera and walked up to the woman. I didn’t say a word. Instead, I just smiled and showed her Piglet. A burst of smiles and laughter and then note comparison followed, culminating in a photo shoot of at least a half-dozen photographers.

The similarities were mind-boggling.

Pooh is 20 years old; Piglet is 24. Neither can be found anymore, as production has increased while quality has decreased.

Pooh is from the San Francisco Bay Area; Piglet spent his formative years there.

Both have multiple photo albums and have traveled the globe. Cruises are a particular favorite.

Neither is completely understood by the outside world, but both are lovingly embraced in the name of quirky fun.

We exchanged tips on cleaning and maintenance (Woolite as a fine washable is preferred), and we agreed that calling our companions “stuffed animals” is an insult. That commonality revealed itself as we dropped our jaws at almost identical experiences at the Acropolis in which we were each told by mean Greek women that our “dolls” were not allowed to visit the antiquities. While we had different solutions to that affront (Pooh entered minutes later in a backpack; Piglet entered years later in a purse), we immediately shared a bond over the shock and panic few others on earth would completely understand.

It truly was A Moment.

I haven’t seen Pooh since we got off that boat. There’s a very good chance our meeting was simply one of those brief moments of connection, of realizing none of us is really completely alone no matter the scope of our weirdness.

Vacations rock.