“Stuck on the high seas, it was terrible to keep such a secret”: the worst holiday with friends

The program of discord

As a teenager I imagined that going on holiday with friends would be the height of fashion. But this was before the first holiday with my group of high school friends, in Barcelona.

It all started very well: we had booked an entire dormitory for eight people in a youth hostel months in advance, delirious at the “madness” of finally leaving without parents…

And finally, very quickly on the spot, conflicts arose between those who wanted to party until late and stay on the beach and those who, guided by my friend Léonie*, had planned a program of activities to do together, written down on a small day-by-day table that she had posted in our dormitory.

In hindsight, it wasn’t much of a problemwe had different rhythmsrather we all wanted to be together all the time (because we told ourselves that otherwise there was no point in going together).

Some started to raise their voices and eventually we reached the third day divided into several groups depending on the activities we wanted to carry out. This was experienced by each of the subgroups as a great betrayal towards the others who could have made an effort (follow the program or change it, depending on the group…).

Léonie held a crisis meeting that same evening, bursting into tears, saying that he had set it all up and that no one cared. Another friend laconically replied that she at the same time she had never been asked to do the same. The atmosphere became very tense…

Maybe we were too young, immature, our friendship wasn’t strong enough or that we had a really bad temper in this group, but we haven’t seen each other together since.

Star

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A secret too heavy to cross

I have a skipper friend and he regularly carries out missions that involve moving a boat from one part of the world to another for wealthy clients. These are often large pleasure boats that require a crew to navigate. I had shared with this friend my dream of making a transatlantic crossing, and one day he called me telling me that he could take me on board a sailing boat that would leave the following week from the south of France towards the Canary Islands, then Martinique.

These kinds of opportunities are rare, so I jumped at them. On board there were two other friends of hers whom I only knew by sight, Pierre * and Jean *. We spent several days preparing the boat, then we left for our first stop, the Canary Islands.

The absence of internet/telephone connection with the outside world makes the relationship with the weather and with the rest of the crew special. Everything is more intense, our friendships have become more intimate, to the point that we have opened up to each other about our lives.

One evening, as I watched in the cockpit, Pierre came to tell me embarrassed that he had a secret that was too heavy for him : he had slept with Jean’s wife several times, which the latter obviously didn’t know.

At this point there were three days of navigation left to reach the Canary Islands and the end of this stage completely ruined me. I’m terrible at lying, so it was horrible to keep such a secretbut it wasn’t my place to announce it… And then on the high seas, what if Jean had lost his temper with Pierre and thrown him into the water while the others were sleeping?

Not knowing what to do, I ended up sharing the information with my skipper friend, who also panicked and decided not to say anything until we were on land. I’ll spare you the suddenly less light and spontaneous atmosphere of this end of the navigation, but we’ve arrived.

The next day, our skipper forced Pierre to reveal his “secret” to Jean, then explained that they would both land here and that a new crew would be recruited to replace them. Jean, because he didn’t feel like holding back someone who had betrayed a friend in that way; Pierre, because he feared that following this revelation he would become too psychologically weak to complete the crossing of the Atlantic…

I expected to encounter storms while sailing, but it was much worse than expected.

Camilla*

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The issue of social battery management

A few years ago, a long-lost friend contacted me on the networks again. She now lives on the other side of France, in a small seaside town, and one day, when I explained to her online that my professional contract had just suddenly expired and that I REALLY need rest, she offers to invite me to her house for a few days.

Her residence has a swimming pool, she lives less than a five minute walk from the ocean, this girl is an old friend… What could have gone wrong, in your opinion?

Well, I had forgotten a detail that I realized the moment she came to welcome me at the station: my friend is talkative, very talkative, the kind who can’t stand a single second of silence, who gives you hours-long monologues on topics. And although in the past I had sparingly appreciated his presence when we occasionally drank together, I quickly realized that my social batteries wouldn’t last this little vacation.

I was there for 4 days. For 4 days I tried everything : telling her that I was tired and that I needed some quiet, reading a book next to her, texting her in front of her, telling her that I wanted to go for a walk alone (which she categorically refused, wanting me to get to know the region) . But nothing prevented his monologue from continuing without interruption.

It’s terrible, because this girl is adorable. She welcomed me and I know she meant well, but I came back from this trip exhausted. I spent two days alone at home, doing nothing, before finally finding some rest.

Fanny*

*Names have been changed

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