Posts Tagged With: europe

Paris: Day Two

After a much needed long nights sleep, best friend and I were determined to make up for our first day in Paris with a fabulous second one. We had breakfast at the hostel, (we stayed at the Trendy Hostel which has breakfast included, a big plus. It’s a bit out of the way, but right next to the metro and a nice relaxing place to be at the en of the day) and then set out to visit the Opera, home of the Paris Opera, and also the real life inspiration for one of my favorite books, The a Phantom of the Opera, which was alter made into several movies, stage plays, and then the widely popular musical. I can’t truly describe the beauty of the any of the astounding architecture of Paris, but the opera house with its golden, winged, statues, and intricate carvings, archways, and columns is really sight to behold and I hope someday I et the chance to sit inside this gorgeous building and see an opera.

After a quick money exchange we made our way to Norte Dame where we attended Monday afternoon mass which was, although in French, a language I really know hardly any of, still incredibly moving. I am a believer and getting to go to a service in one of the most beautiful and historic churches in the world was something beyond words. To see the beauty of both the outside and inside of Notre Dame, and the way that people were able to express their devotion and love of God through their talents of architecture, sculpture, painting, and glass work was so moving. I will admit, however, that it is a little bit bizarre to be attending church with hundreds of tourists standing on the edges taking pictures of it like it’s some kind of performance. But j am glad that the church is a working cathedral and not just a tourist trap like so many other grand churches around the world.

After mass we went in search for food but made a quick stop a the Shakespeare and Company book store because it’s impossible for two book lovers not to find themselves drawn in by the piles and piles of books held within that shop. I could have spent all day looking at books and would have surely spent more money than I could afford on books had I not remembered that I basically have no more room for anything in my bags.

Our search for substinance led us to what is my favorite place in Paris, if not the world that I’ve explored this far, Montmartre. Montmartre is actually the name of the hill that this district lies at the foot of, but as an artist myself and a lover of art and literature, Montmartre is a dream come true. Unfortunately due to the influx of tourists to the area (sorry Paris) the artists can no longer afford to live in Montmartre for the most part which is a huge pity because that’s what makes it so wonderful. It was the home of such artists as Pablo Picasso and Monet, and was frequented by writers such as Hemingway and Langston Hughs.

We found a bakery, bought a delicious lunch of sandwiches, croissants, and diet coke, and found out way up a hill to a tree covered courtyard and a (albeit very wet) bench to eat on. This bench was right outside the building where Monet and Picasso both lived and worked in their early days in Paris. If I had to pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with Paris it was right there. Right in front of the former lodgings of artistic greatness, under trees with orange and yellow leaves falling at our feet, eating the best croissant I have ever had, I fell in love with Paris.

After resting for a while we started our climb to the cathedral Montmartre, and the best view of the city from anywhere in my opinion. We got to the top, took a deep breathe and just stood there in awe of the beauty of our view. That lasted approximately two minutes before we realized that Best Friend’s phone had been stolen when she accidentally put in her back pocket after checking directions. There were a few moments of panic and frustration, and then we realized that A) her phone was covered for theft so she could get a new one next week, and B) there was nothing we could do about it right then so we continued on our way more or less unaffected by the unfortunate theft.

After that it had started to rain even harder and my shoes were soaked through, so we decided to go back to the hostel and relax for a bit before meeting our friends again for dinner that night.

Around 6:30 it had stopped raining so we made our way back into the city for dinner and we met our friends at a small crepe shop and I had the best tomato, lettuce, and feta crepe, and then an hour later an even better nutella and banana crepe. It was a good food day over all.

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Paris: Day One

Arriving in Paris I’m ashamed to admit that I wasn’t as in awe as I probably would have been due to lack of sleep, heavy backpacks, and a little bit of nausea. We got off the plane, made our way to the bus that we rode nearly two hours to the train station, and then we purchased ticket to Versailles and took a nice long train ride to the beautiful palace of Versailles. We got there, bought our tickets, and then realized that there was a three hour cue just to get INTO the palace, and promptly decided that there were not enough hours in the day to do that. We found two woman about our age, handed them our tickets and found our way back to the train station to head to the centre of Paris.

By the time we got there I was going back and forth between nausea and starvation, dehydration, and just general exhaustion. Our goal was mainly to find food, and then forget all of plans for museums and wandering and take a nap as soon as possible. That being the case, and the fact that it was Sunday, we found nothing open that was even remotely close to our price range, so we settled for something not horribly expensive and just tried not to think about the cost too much. Then we finished our meal, found a metro station, and checked into our hostel as soon as we could, which was the best decision we could have made because two hours later when we left  to meet our friends we were much happier and ready to experience Paris.

Night time in paris is really the most wonderful thing. It isn’t called the City of Lights for nothing. It is actually amazing to me how beautiful twilight in Paris could be. Two of our good friends also happened to be in Paris for a few days, and also happened to be newly engaged which just made seeing them for the first time in months even more fun. we met them under the eiffel tower which I stood in front of and pictures like the tourist I am with no shame. It was actually a lovely movie moment. Best friend and I saw them across the square and we ran to each other and hugged, and exclaimed, and oohed and awed over the ring. Then we took a picture, and went in search of a Parisian cafe to spend more Euro in.

We settled on this lovely little cafe and a table for four outside, luckily under a heater because as gorgeous fall in paris is, it is also awfully cold. We ate onion soup and creme brulee, and had a wonderful time catching up and continually freaking out over the fact that we were together. In Paris.

When we parted that night and went back to our hostel to catch some sleep, I already knew I was going to love Paris, if only for the food.

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Barcelona: The Gothic Quarter, Gaudi, Picasso, and Staying up all Night

 

Barcelona is a party town. And I’m not just saying that, I mean I literally can see no real reason to go back to Barcelona, except to party all night long, which I would totally suggest by the way. But there are a few things that, if you’re awake before noon and not nursing any lingering regrets from the night before, that I would suggest hitting up.

The first place I would totally recommend is the Gothic Quarter. This is one of the areas of the city that remains from the original Barcelona. Every alleyway and street is lined with wrought iron balconies and beautiful cobblestone paths and buildings. There is an old world feeling that is unmistakable Spanish. Every old adventure film held in the streets of Spain look like they were shot here. I also love all the street performers and Catalan flags and banners strung across the streets. The gothic quarter is, in my opinion, the best place to spend your time if you plan to spend anytime in Barcelona during the day.

Right in the heart of the Gothic Quarter is the Picasso museum. The museum has a large collection of Picasso’s works that he created while in Barcelona and the surrounding Spanish towns, as well as all of his renderings of Las Meninas which is just breath taking to see them all there in one room. I am a huge Picasso fan and it as such a treat to get to see his work in person. Plus you get 50% off from being the between the ages of 18 and 25, and you get in free if your a student. Which is my favorite price. I would recommend going here one hundred percent. even if you drag yourself there and then fall back into bed after, drink a Cafe Ole and make yourself do it.

Then of course there is our old friend Gaudi. Gaudi is one of those artists who just kind of took over. Barcelona is full of Gaudi, fake Gaudi, souvenir Gaudi. It’s Gaudi mania. But his architecture is definitely worth seeing. Go find the Gaudi district and take a look at his gorgeous designs, and of course don’t forget to go Sagrada Familia, the world’s most famous unfinished church. We walked up to it and Best Friend says, “Think they’ll ever finish?” To which we decided it wouldn’t be as famous if they did that so … probably not.

Now for my adventures in Barcelona. On our second night we knew we were going to have to be at the airport by 5:00 am at the latest to catch our 6:30 flight, so we decided to just stay up. We figured we could go out dancing, leave around 2am and the go check out and get to the airport. Great plan right? Well here is the thing I always forget about going out, you don’t want to leave, and when you do leave you’re party high only lasts for so long before you’re exhausted.

So we are at the hostel, we meet some people, we get on the bus to the club and so far everything is good. I have an alarm set to tell us it’s time to leave so there’s nothing to worry about. We get to the club and pretty much right away I lose my best friend to some Australian, which is fine with me because I’m hanging out with this Canadian and two girls from the UK. We’re dancing, we’re having a good time, when my phone goes off. ok, no problem, but where the heck is best friend? I shove my way through the crowded dance floor, avoiding flirt Spaniards (If only I had more time) and still can’t find her. So I go back to my new friends, tell them to tell best friend I’m outside if they see her and I bid adu to my Canadian (which I was very annoyed about by the way, and he only made it harder by trying to convince me I could stay and still make it to the airport.) and leave the club to wait outside.

Now the problem with traveling is I can’t communicate with anyone unless I have wifi, which luckily I found, but since Best Friend didn’t have any, I was out of luck. I sat and chatted with a nice Spaniard who spoke NO English, in the best broken Spanish I could, but he stayed with me and was very kind until finally BF comes out of the club.

Somehow in our exhausted and rushed state we managed to navigate two metros, a five minute walk to the hostel, getting all of our stuff, checking out, another metro, finding a bus to the airport, and then get through security, find our gate and get to our seats. I am not lying when I said that by the time we got seated I pretty much passed out and woke up two hours later in Paris. So thank you Barcelona for a hell of a time, I will be again someday with more time on my hands.

Honestly we really only spent an afternoon and that night in Barcelona because I prefer Sitges and wanted Best Friend to see it before we left Spain, but over all I enjoyed our time in Barcelona, but like I said if you’re not a partier don’t expect a jam filled itinerary. If you are into the party scene make sure you stay at the Urbany Hostel. Trust me, it’s so worth it. Just don’t stay at the club until 2am and then exhaustedly stumble to the airport to make a 6:30 flight. Not worth it. Ok maybe. Yeah who am I kidding, totally do that.

P.S. There is a Mcdonalds that’s open late down by the club strip so if you want cheap greasy food after a long night, that’s the place to be.

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Down by the River

In Torrelles de Foix, Spain, there isn’t a lot to do. It is a very small town with just a couple of tiny markets and a pharmacy. And while I quite enjoy this quite little town, sometimes it can get a little monotonous.

So yesterday my two little brothers and I decided to go to the store so they guy buy snacks. We get there and , of course they are still closed for siesta so we decided to walk around a bit. We went down a small alley and back up, still closed. So we walked up past the store, up a hill we had never been before. As we were walking one of my brothers noticed a sign that was pointing to the right and decided that we should follow it, so we did. We walked down a path past a field with one old shack in the middle, and past a few scattered houses, up into the woods on the back side of town. When we got there we found a little stream that had beautiful, cold, clear water, and huge trees that were thick enough to climb in. We also found crawdads in the water, so we spent the afternoon climbing trees and exploring paths and catching crawdads. And even though we all got cut up on thorn bushes and came home wet and dirty, it was one of the best afternoons I have spent since we got here. On our way back we took a back road and it led past all these farms and vineyards that line the edge of town. It was so beautiful and green, I can’t believe we never explored that way before.

The thing that really got to me about the afternoon is that I forgot how good it feels to just be a kid. As I’m coming up on my 21 birthday I feel less and less like it’s ok for me to just be goofy and climb a tree. It was nice to regain some of that freedom.

A week from Friday I leave to spend a few days in Barcelona and Paris with my best friend so I try to keep my blog updated on how it all goes. It’s my first time to Paris and I’m super excited. We have plans to see museums and churches and all the beautiful touristy things that I’m not ashamed of. Although mostly I’m just excited to go to the Van Gough and Seurat exhibits which I have already informed my traveling companion will probably illicit tears from me. Art makes me emotional…sue me.

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Bienvenido a Torrelles De Foix

I have now officially been in Spain for almost two weeks and I have yet to write a blog post. In my defense we didn’t havve internet for a while, and then we were out a lot, and then my grandmother passed so there just hasn’t been a god time to sit down and really reflect on my first week here.

We left Frankfurt, Germany around 8pm and arrived in Barcelona, Spain at about 10pm. It was a stress free, short flight…at first. We got off the plane and walked through the airport to baggage claim in relatively high spirits. We sat, and waited for the luggage to be unloaded, and we started to gather our things. Now because my God family is moving to Spain permanently, they have a lot of bags to keep track of. We got most of them, but there was one missing. So we waited, and waited, and waited some more until the airport was almost empty and there were just a few stray bags going round and round in a continual circle. We took stock of everything and discovered that, of course, the missing bag was the bag with all the expensive recording equipment, (Luckily my God father is smart enough to keep a lock on his equipment case). So my God father stood in line for an hour or so just to be told that the luggage got left in Frankfurt, but would be on the first flight the next morning. Tired, and annoyed we left the airport and called the hotel shuttle to pick us up. We finally got in the van around 11 pm and, luckily we had a very kind driver. He didn’t speak much english but we knew enough Spanish to communicate. After getting tot he hotel and getting settled for the night we went down to the little store in the lobby of the Barcelona Best Western (which is beautiful by the way highly recommend it) and bought sandwiches and water. For five of us it came to almost 50 Euro which is ridiculous for pre made sandwiches and bottles of water, but beggars can’t be choosers. I called my father and chatted for a bit and then drifted off into a very comfortable sleep.

The next morning we were out the door by 10am to meet the man who owns the house we have rented. He had graciously offered to pick us up from the hotel and take us to the house, but as soon as I saw his compact, four passenger car I looked at my oldest G-Brother and said, “There’s no way we are all fitting in THAT…” and I was right. 20 minutes, and a lot of failure to communicate later, I found myself sitting in the Best Western lobby waiting for the boys to get dropped off and for my G-father and the owner to come back and pick me up. I would say I was there a good three or four hours, but I had wifi so who’s complaining? Plus I had lunch at the hotel restaurant which, while a little expensive, was incredibly delicious and my waiter was a very nice man who forgave my poor Spanish and made conversation with me as far as I could communicate. Eventually I was picked up and we made our way to the house.

We are staying in a lovely little house in Torrelles de Foix which is about forty minutes outside of Barcelona by car. It is a neat little town with close set building and little alleyways where people hang their clothes out their windows and on lines across the sky.There is one little market with a meat counter in the back, and I’m pretty sure we now own the only box of cereal in the entire town. There is also a Panderia owned by a wonderful man named Pedro, and a meat and wine shop owned by a coupe names Jaime and Marcella. There are maybe two thousand people in the whole town and we have met a lot of them. Inclusing an Australian (that old travelers joke about Aussies being everywhere is so on the money).

The first time we went out we met Jaime and Marcella who let us try every one of their meats so we knew what we liked and wanted to buy. Next we met Pedro who is very kind and always up for a chat even though he speaks no English. then there is the restaurant/bar that serves the best coffee I’ve ever had in my entire life, where a young woman works who speaks Spanish, and apparently French as we learned after she served a french couple one night, but no English. Basically no one speaks English but they are all so incredibly kind and patient with our poor Spanish.

We also live about fifteen minutes out of Villa Franca which is a decent sized town where we go to buy groceries and essentials for the house. I can’t tell you how many times we have stopped to ask directions and someone has just dropped what they are doing to take us to where we are going. We even met an Englishman who took us to two different places to find Visa information, and THEN found us in a grocery store later to give more ideas on the solution to some of our problems. People here are so kind it’s staggering.

This post in getting incredibly long so I will save my Barcelona trip for another day, but my conclusion so far is that Spain is lovely and so are its people.

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A Romantic Interlude

There are a lot of people writing about the romance of Paris, and London, and Rome, but there are few people writing about the romance of Frankfurt, Germany, so if you’ll allow me, I would like to take a moment and step into that gap.

Frankfurt is a big city with all the charms of a small village. Life starts at 6am, when I can hear the bicycles and cars rushing past my window. Which I leave open because it is August and heat rises, so you can imagine, being four stories up, that I am kept nice and warm in the heat wave they call summer. The commuters of Frankfurt start the day, probably with a pastry, which can be found in any of the hundreds of bakeries on every corner, definitely with a cup of coffee, and perhaps even with a beer depending on how seriously they live by the, “5 o’clock somewhere” rule. The buses begin to fill with people on their way to work, or school, or just to run errands. Perhaps they are off to the market in Konstablewache square that brings fresh produce, flowers, and Bratwurst each Thursday. Perhaps they are going to the river to stroll by the water, or sit with a friend and talk in the cool of the early morning.

As the day progresses, and the sun gets higher in the sky, hundreds of people walk the streets, or ride down them in search of french fries, or curry, or more bread which seems to be a main staple here. They may take a stroll along the lock bridge where hundreds of locks with the names of hundreds of lovers are hanging from it’s metal siding. Or they may take their lunch to the old part of town and eat surrounded by buildings that could only be found in fairytales of old, inhabited by child eating witches, and little pigs.They pass the fountain with the lions heads, and the statue of David atop the severed limbs of Goliath. They meet each other, (one is always running into people they know on the streets of Frankfurt) and they stop to chat, seemly forgetting where they were headed in the first place, as if they had always full intended to meet this person and have this conversation.

After a long day the people pile back into the trains on their way back to their families. Or to Friedburger Platz where on Friday people gather with their friends, beers, and cigarettes, to sit, stand, and lean until someone finally says enough and goes home. Or maybe to the street lined with cafes filled with people drinking wine, where on the corner there is an ice cream shop that people travel from all around the city to eat Mango Sorbet and laugh at some joke I’m, unfortunately, too American to understand. As the sun begins to set, I sit in my windowsill and listen to the bells that ring out and seem to hover on the still, hot air like an angelic chorus. And finally by 10pm the sun has gone to bed and the stars have taken its place. The people have retired tot heir homes and just one or two stragglers wander the streets on their way to their own little flats on their own little streets.

I live with the awareness that I have never been to Paris, or London, or Rome, but that I do live in Frankfurt, if only for a little while, and it seems so wonderful I can’t imagine a place I could possible like better.

I began to feel a bit sad today when I thought of all my friends starting school again without me. And I’ll admit it does hurt a little bit every time I see a post about term starting up in a few weeks. Although it doesn’t hurt as much as the posts from old flames about new girls while I sit alone in my apartment and watch Netflix. And it’s not a real hurt, just a dull ache to think of my life back home and of time gone by. But then, as I began to pity myself I looked around. I realized that I am in Europe, living alone, serving the Kingdom, making new friends and new memories. Why on earth am I thinking about silly things like school starting up and old boes I don’t even have feelings for anymore? If I were there I would be wishing I was here, but I’m here and perfectly happy that I am. So the world can take its fall semesters and new romances and stuff it in a box. I will think about such things when I get home. I will start studying books when I stop studying architecture, history, and language. I will fall in love with a man when I stop falling in love with travel, and new friends, and God’s creation. And it will be a very long time before that happens. In the movie Sabrina one of the repeated lines is, “I found myself in Paris” well perhaps I am going through the process of “finding myself” in Frankfurt, if I believed in such a thing. I am becoming increasingly aware of my own independence, and more importantly of my own ability to thrive in such conditions. I no longer fear the unknown or the terrifying silence of being on my own. I embrace and welcome it as a chance to know myself better.

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How I Met the German Transit Authority

Two days in Germany and I already broke the law. There we were, midnight, filming a short skit between trains. A train had just arrived so we stopped filming and waited. I was on one side of the tracks, my colleagues on the other, when two transit authority officers stepped off the train on their side. They looked at them, they look across at me, and then slowly began to make their way to the end of the track to cross over to my side. Everyone tried to look busy, tried to look innocent, tried to look anywhere but directly at them. They approached me. “Was maschst du?” (which is actually a simplified version of what they said…not that I actually know) I’m smart enough to assume they asked me what I was doing so I told them we were filming a short student film. They asked if I spoke German I said no, they asked if my friends spoke German I said some. FINALLY one of my colleagues came over and talked to them. Apparently it is illegal, without permission, to film or photograph on transit property. So we packed up, while they watched, and finally they got on a train and left. No major trouble, but now we know! You live, you learn.

After, at about 1am two friends rode the train home with me. Frankfurt at night is very quite. There are one or two people out, but not many. Everywhere you go there is silence. It’s quite nice actually. I feel safer on the streets of Frankfurt than I ever have anywhere in the US. I could live in Frankfurt and be very happy.

My favorite part of the day is my morning commute to Konstablerwache, which is a central square in town. There is  Starbucks and loads of shops, and a huge mall, home to the world’s second longest elevator which I had the privilege of riding. I like my commute because it’s one time of the day that I don’t have to be an American. I don’t have to be just another tourist, because as long as I have my headphones in, I know which train to get on and off on, and I don’t speak, no one knows. It’s nice to just be a fake German commuter for twenty minutes every morning. At least until I order coffee an butcher every word.

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European Adventure: Day One

As I type I am currently sitting at a gate in Denver international airport, under a sign that says, “Reykjavik” in red. If you asked me what emotions I’m feeling right now I suppose I would have to answer that I am feeling an odd mixture of excitement, fear, anxiety, restlessness, and just the tiniest bit of childlike wonder, at the fact that I am finally headed to Europe to live for six months.

So many American talk about being world travelers, or wanting to go places. And I must confess I agree with Sartre when he said he wished people would stop saying, “I haven’t gotten the chance…” When it comes to things they desire to do. I am finally taking my own advice and being a doing instead of a dreamer. Because the world has enough dreamers, it’s time some of us take some action. And though I’m not sure I ever thought I would be taking a ten hour flight to Frankfurt via Reykjavek, I know this is something that I’m going to get to tell my children about someday.

Two lovely things happened on the way to my gate today that I wanted to share. Firstly, DIA has installed tubes along the lines as you wait for security that say, “Change for change, helpDenver’s  homeless”, which I greatly appreciate because goodness knows the growing homeless population is becoming an issue that can no longer be ignored, but one that needs to be dealt with. Preferably with compassion and love. Also it’s just perfect. My father was even saying as we drove to the airport that he always get stopped at security because of the change in his pocket. That’s a perfect way for men and woman to empty their pockets and help their neighbors. 

The second thing that happened is that there were two just absolutely delightful TSA agents. One who was doing the initial announcements, and one who was checking bags. They both smiled, and wee kind. They joked with people and seemed like they actually wanted to be doing their job which is just great to see because, and I hate to stereotype, but a lot of time TSA agents are just….kind of…unpleasant. So overall this has been, so far at least, a stress free start to a grand adventure. Prayers are appreciated and much needed.

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Living Without Fear of Practicality

I was talking to a close friend the other day about our ideas about the future, and while I talked about Graduate schools in the New York or Boston, or traveling the country in a renovated bus, or backpacking through Asia, he just stared at me. Finally I had to stop and say,

“What? What are you staring at?”

“You.” He responded. “You’re crazy. Your plans are crazy.”

“How so?”

“They just are. They aren’t reasonable.”

“Oh ya? Then please, oh knowledgeable one, tell me what your great plans are for the future.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I would love to travel and go on adventures, but it just isn’t practical. I plan to graduate, go to graduate school, get a good job and start a family. Your plans sound nice and all, but they aren’t practical.”

“So?”

“So? So? So how are you going to support yourself while you’re galavanting around the world?”

“I’ll work here and there, I’ll save and do it on the cheap…”

“You live without the fear of practicality, you know that right?”

You live without the fear of practicality. I’ve thought about that a lot since he said it and I have to admit he is probably right. Unlike so many of my college friends, I don’t live in constant fear of what the future holds. I don’t worry about having to find a high paying job, buying a house, having a family. I don’t even really worry about getting married. I mean, I want to, someday, but I’m certainly not in any hurry. I suppose I just don’t see the point. I don’t see the point at 20 years old in worrying about how I’m going to afford something ten years down the road, or twenty. I have no illusions that I will be rich someday. I simply live knowing that a life full of adventure and experience is worth more to me than a 401K. I’m not saying it’s wrong to plan for the future, in fact it’s incredibly smart and forward thinking. I’m just saying that I live without the fear of practicality. I live without the fear of having to settle down. When it happens, if it happens, I’ll cross that bridge. Until then I plan to take life as it comes and follow adventure where it leads me. Even if that means being poor. As long as I’m happy.

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The Great European Adventure

When I graduated from High School all I wanted to do was pack up, and head…anywhere. I wanted to go to Europe and Asia and South America and Canada. Anywhere that wasn’t a tiny town in Colorado. But with no way to support myself, and two parents who insisted that I give it, “The old College try”, I was left with no choice but to pack my bags and move to Tennessee. And while I have come to love the school I go to and the people I do life with, I had, by no means, given up on those dreams of seeing the world. I just didn’t know how, or when that was going to happen. On Thanksgiving of 2013 I got a phone call from my God Father telling me that he was packing up his family and moving to Barcelona for a new opportunity. He would be working, living, and traveling in Europe, and he wanted me to come too. Obviously he knew I couldn’t just pack up and leave everything behind, that was impractical, but he encouraged me to find a way to come live with them, even for just a few months. Fast forward to June of 2014, I suddenly have a genius idea. Shortly before leaving for the summer one of my professors and asked me if I had ever considered studying abroad. As a film major there was an opportunity to go to L.A. which would fulfill my internship requirement and be a chance to study off campus for a semester. I started to think about ti and the idea began to sound more and more appealing, but in the back of my head I couldn’t get the idea of Europe to go away. Then it hit me. If i could go to L.A. on a film internship, why couldn’t I go to Barcelona on one? I immediately called my God father and pitched him the idea. I would take a semester abroad, stay enrolled at school, and intern for his production company. He loved the idea and plans began to be put into place. As I returned to school my focus was on convincing my professors and administration that this was a valuable trip that would benefit me in so many ways, and prepare me for a future in film production. It really wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be, and so a year and half, and a few student loans later, I am preparing set out on the journey of a lifetime. I’ll be in Europe from July to December, traveling from Barcelona to Paris, Frankfurt, Amsterdam, Athens, London, and who knows where else? I intend to mark a few things off my bucket list, learn a little about making documentaries, and a lot about myself.

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