We arrived in Prague late, without a map or a place to stay. The exchange counter was… We arrived in Prague late, without a map or a place to stay. The exchange counter was closed so we couldn’t get Czech money, and when we stepped out of the train station, we saw that the streets were deserted except for a guard doing his patrols with a machine gun.

Tension had been growing between Adam and me in the recent days. Still only three weeks into our trip, we were beginning to realize that traveling together could take its toll on a friendship.

We secured a map from a group of Canadians who we passed on their way into the station to get a night train out of the city. It had a few hostels marked on it, so, practically alone, with little sleep and our packs heavy on our backs, we began to trek toward the nearest one.

Adam will still probably say that I was the one who got us lost. I’m pretty sure he had the map upside down. But regardless, we found ourselves back at the train station before we reached the hostel. I was hungry. We began to bicker.

When we eventually did see the hostel sign peek out from around the corner, we shouted for joy. We waltzed in and were still smiling at overcoming our trial when the desk attendant informed us in broken English that there was no room for us here. The only other hostel that would probably have room was on the opposite side of Prague. The attendant circled the place on our map but suggested we not walk all that way. We slung our packs over our shoulders and trudged back into the night.

As we passed the train station for the third time, we thought about a hotel. They were all outlandishly expensive. Little things – like who was right, and when, that had been building up during the past few weeks started to arise, and we began to snap at each other. Soon, we found ourselves lost again. The map only showed the major streets.

With this long overdue realization, I declared that I was giving up. I would sleep on the lawn in front of a nearby church and find my way in the morning. Adam reluctantly followed. Without talking, we assembled little beds with our clothes and lay down. It began to rain.

It all seemed so wrong. Back on our search, Adam insisted that he knew where we were going. I wanted to look at the map to make sure – he had led us in circles twice already. I grabbed for the map. He held on. It ripped in two straight down the middle, and we stood there staring at each other in the rain, each with half of a map hanging from our hands, flapping in the wind.

That’s the closest we ever came to killing each other. We did find the hostel and got a room. The bar had just closed, but the bartender told us that we looked horrible and deserved some beer. I smoked my first cigarette in six months, and things became all right.

We had our ups and downs as the trip went on, and when it came to an end, we had a special bond. But that was the summer after graduating high school, and we were unclear as to how good our friendship would remain.

I don’t see Adam too much anymore, although I still refer to him as one of my best friends. He goes to art school in New York City; I’m here. Last summer, he traveled around Japan; I went to Jamaica through Amizade. Our paths rarely cross. But a couple of weekends ago, I went to visit him.

We talked about a lot of stuff that weekend. Mostly just catching up. We touched on our ambitions and fears, art, our parents, girls and the nature of our friendship. We don’t have all that much in common anymore, except a basic drive to try to live as much as we can. Our friendship moves on mostly through a mutual feeling of being happy for the other one. I don’t miss hanging out with Adam for the stretches of months I don’t see him. I’m glad he’s not around. I know he’s out doing all that he can to try to become all that he’s always hoped he can be, and I feel happy for him.

Really, the only way friendships can last is if you’re able to feel happy for the person after they’ve gone. That’s how I want most of my friendships to be over the next few years. People I’ve known and had fun with, scattered to wherever they have to be, each trying his or her hardest to realize all that they want to be. I love to be able to feel happy for people I know. And it’s so sad when someone flounders and you can’t, no matter how hard you try. I just hope that, as time goes by, I can give others reason to be happy for me.

Will Minton can be reached at