A Magical Reunion: Meeting Again in Wellington After 21 Years

“Hello, do you offer landscape design services?” I tried to sound mature and professional.

“Yes, we do,” replied a man with a New Zealand accent on the other end of the line.

“I’d like to speak with Barley,” I said.

“This is Barley speaking.”
I paused. That name instantly pulled me back to a memory from 21 years ago, when I met a backpacker named Barley during a trip to Vietnam. But back then, his English barely had any accent.

I continued probing, “Did you ever do landscape design for the Wadestown community?”

“Yes, was it Joan who referred you?”

“Right, Joan mentioned you had spent time in Taiwan.”
“Yes, I did,” he replied.

At that point, I was almost certain he was the same person from my memory. To confirm, I added, “I’d like to do a reference check. Over 20 years ago, did you travel to Vietnam and Cambodia? Were you traveling with a young Chinese man back then?”

There was a brief pause. Then he said, “Yes!”

I laughed, “That guy was me!”
He was stunned.

Let’s rewind to 2004. After losing my job, I left Shanghai and set out on my first trip abroad. I took a green train for 28 hours to Nanning in Guangxi, then crossed the border at Dongxing into Vietnam. From Mong Cai to Hanoi, I met Barley—a backpacker from New Zealand—at a youth hostel. Along with a Japanese friend, we headed south together, traveling all the way to Ho Chi Minh City, then crossed into Cambodia.

In Phnom Penh, we shared a mixed dorm with a blonde girl. I still vividly remember the emotional jolt I felt at the Killing Fields, especially seeing soldiers dressed just like Red Guards. We also talked about my experience of accidentally eating a “Happy Pizza”—that night, I had my first taste of the unknown and the freedom the world had to offer.

After the trip, we parted ways in Sihanoukville. I couldn’t enter Thailand due to visa issues and had to return to China. Barley continued on his journey. Back home, I started a business, met my future wife, and stepped onto a very different life path.

I never forgot Barley. Over the years, I tried to contact him in various ways. When I moved to Wellington this year, I emailed him again—but the address was no longer valid. Then, this morning, a sudden idea struck: I searched his name on Facebook.

A profile popped up. Though the profile photo was blurry, the page mentioned he had lived in Taiwan—my heart skipped a beat. I even left comments under his posts, asking strangers who liked them to pass along a message.

Then I searched his full name with “Wellington” and found his company website: Inoutside Landscaping. The site mentioned he had worked in horticulture in Australia, helped with earthquake reconstruction in Christchurch, and had lived in Wellington for the past nine years. At that moment, I was 100% certain—this was the Barley I had met 21 years ago.

I immediately called the number on the website, and the conversation at the start unfolded.

What’s even more amazing is that we now both live in Wellington—less than five kilometers apart. He told me that due to slow business, he’s planning to move back to the South Island next week. If I had waited a few more days, we might’ve missed each other again.

This reunion made me reflect on the choices I made back then. That 2004 journey was a turning point in my life. I once fantasized about being a lifelong backpacker, but I also realized it might eventually make me “useless.” So I promised myself: once I succeeded as an entrepreneur and had the resources, I could travel freely again and live like a wanderer. That simple thought shaped the next 20 years of my life.

Today, I still live a minimalist travel lifestyle. Whether sleeping in a car or under a tent, I feel at ease. In a way, I really did become the “free backpacker” I once dreamed of being.

And now, I’ve finally reconnected with Barley. In this small city on the other side of the world, we’re about to meet again. Sometimes, real life really is more incredible than fiction.