“I feel like this, uh, some dream world we’re in, y’know.”

“Yeah, it’s so weird.

It’s like our time together is just ours.

It’s our own creation.

It must be like I’m in your dream,

and you in mine or something.”

“And what’s so cool is that this whole evening,

all our time together,

shouldn’t officially be happening.”

“Yeah, I know.

Maybe that’s why this feels so otherworldly.”

There’s nothing more beautiful than to travel and be in love - and Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy, specifically Before Sunrise, captures the essence of that. Before Sunrise follows Celine (Julie Delpy) and Jesse (Ethan Hawke) who met as strangers on a train and decided to hop off and explore Vienna for the day. The entire film doesn’t have major plots, but just follow the naturally flowing conversations of the two leads as they learn more about each other. I fully hold this film accountable for giving me unrealistic expectations of having witty men on a train whisking me off for a day’s adventure in a new city. This film best portrays the briefness and intensity of travel romance and all the reasons for why it works. If you haven’t watched Before Sunrise, pause right here and be lucky to watch it for the first time since there’s obviously spoilers ahead.

Maybe you’re walking along the beach one quiet afternoon, reading a book at the city gardens, or chilling with a cold pint at the local bar; and there (s)he is. You’re a different person when you travel. You let your hair loose, you’ve decided to say yes to the things you would’ve otherwise refuse, and your this-person-might-be-a-serial-killer sensor is down. So when (s)he starts a conversation and invites you to walk around the city, the only answer is yes.

“I wish I met you earlier,

I really like talking to you.”

The core strength of this film is the flowing conversations between Jesse and Celine. In less than a day, they have changed from complete strangers sitting across each other on the train to one-day lovers who shared their deepest thoughts and feelings with each other. Just like travel friendships, this relationship is most probably short-lived. So given the limited time, you would compress the small talk that would take weeks in your normal life to a few hours and spend the rest of it talking having quality conversations.

When Jesse and Celine rode the back of the tram, they attempted to break the ice by asking each other direct questions like, “Describe for me your first sexual feelings toward a person,” and “Tell me something that pisses you off.” If you met someone who asked you this and you’re in ‘regular life mode’, you would think that they’re insane and intrusive, but when you’re traveling, you’re more willing to open up and tell the things even your close friends and family wouldn’t know. Partly because you’re a slightly different person when abroad, but also because you think that the odds are you won't see this person ever again in your life and he or she wouldn’t know anyone in your circle, so it doesn’t matter if you share your deepest darkest secrets.

It also helps that being in a different city means that you have a shared experience and there’s always something to talk about if you somehow run out conversation topics. Even an art exhibition poster stuck on a post would be something to talk about, just like Jesse and Celine.

“If there’s any kind of magic in this world, it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something.”

When you’re in love, everything about the other person fascinates you. From the way they speak to the way they eat. The way little wrinkles around their eyes would show when they laugh and it seems like they are radiating warmth like the sun just for you. Add that with the fact that travel romance usually involves someone from a different culture or country than you. Instantly, this person becomes the most fascinating person you’ve ever met.

You dedicate more time in noticing the quirks of other cultures, and they point out yours that you would not have noticed. As Celine said, “the answer must be in the attempt.” Travel romance is like having just the honeymoon phase of a regular romance, coupled by a time for you to learn more about yourself, the other person, and to see the city you’re exploring with rose-tinted glasses.

“If we were around each other all the time, what do you think would be the first thing about me that would drive you mad?”

Here’s one thing why most travel romances are magical: impermanence. Since you’re only around this person for a few days, if not hours, you probably would only see his or her good side, or even if you see things that might annoy you, you only experience it a few times and might even dismiss them as ‘quirks’. At the park, Jesse said to Celine, “Let‘s say that you and I were together all the time, then you'd start to hate a lot of my mannerisms. The way every time that we would have people over, I’d be insecure, and I'd get a little too drunk. Or the way I tell the same stupid pseudo-intellectual story again, and again.” In actual relationships, there’s more time to allow this to build up and drive you insane.

In a different time or place, maybe you wouldn’t even be attracted to this person at all. If you met him or her at your neighbourhood coffee shop you might not even give them a second look, let alone spend days exploring the city, just you too.

Celine countered, “When you talked earlier about after a few years, how a couple begins to hate each other by anticipating their reactions or getting tired of their mannerisms. I think it would be the opposite for me. I think I can really fall in love when I know everything about someone. The way he's gonna part his hair, which shirt he's gonna wear that day, knowing the exact story he'd tell in a given situation. I'm sure that's when I know I'm really in love.”

“You know all this bullshit we're talking about...about not seeing each other again?

I don't want to do that.”

The thought you’ve been avoiding as you have the time of your life with this person finally becomes inescapable. Sooner or later the limited time you have with each other runs out and one of you, or both of you, have to get on the next bus, train, or plane to some other place. It’s sad and your heart is breaking, but the pain and longing was worth the magical short-lived time you have with each other. You wish that you could be with each other all the time. You start thinking of whether you can make it work and try long distance, plan flights back and forth to see that person, or even move to this place. But maybe by the time you get to the next city you’ve realized that the effort isn’t worth it, or that it is.

Celine and Jesse revisit the question of keeping in touch or not seeing each other ever again multiple times. Just like them, at the end you have two choices: a) keep the memory as it is, just that special little time together but long for it dearly when you return home or b) try to extend the relationship beyond travel romance but risk ruining it. You’d feel the same level of exasperation with them as you say your equivalent of Goodbye-Goodbye-Au Revoir-Later.

Thinking of this dilemma, I am reminded of the poet by the Danube that read the poem out loud to Jesse and Celine:

“I’ll carry you

You’ll carry me

That’s how it could be

Don’t you know me?

Don’t you know me by now?”

Words by Nadia Pritta Wibisono