Getting ready for Europe

Overall, I would consider myself a slightly cautious, not overly exciting, afraid to take that perilous leap kind of person. The extent of my craziness would probably be riding the Zipper at the Red River Ex fifteen times because my friends wanted to take bets on which round would make me throw up. I am a less than average snowboarder. I flat out refuse to go rollerblading on residential streets, because I just KNOW that one of the small pebbles will lodge itself between one of the wheels on my skates and I will meet my untimely death in the middle of the road. Either that or one of the cracks in the road will eat me and that will be that.

No, I am definitely not one to do anything crazy. Or even slightly crazy. So the decision to go to Europe for two months this summer was possibly the craziest decision I have made in my twenty-three years of life.

In ninth grade, my junior high school planned a trip to Greece, complete with a four day Mediterranean cruise. Unfortunately, that was also the year that a group of Canadians went to California, and two students and two teachers met their fate in the form of a very large tidal wave. It was a horrible, tragic accident, and no one would allow their students to travel after it. Our trip was cancelled immediately.

In tenth grade it seemed my luck was changing, and my choir planned a trip to Italy. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. We paid our damage deposits, started learning basic Italian phrases, and even purchased our absolutely hideous matching jackets. But of course, three weeks later…. cancelled. It seemed that my destiny was to get close to Europe but never quite make it there. I would be forced to live my life as one of those weird high school history teachers who have a serious love for the subject, but are never really into what they are teaching because they haven’t experienced it!

But I was determined. Sure, I would probably lose my job, get sunburned beyond recognition, and return to Canada flat broke with no prospects. Or, on the other hand, I could accidentally become a drug mule, be thrown in an overseas prison, and never be heard of again. That’s a worst case scenario. But nothing could deter me from my goal. I was packed, ready, and prepared, armed with my guidebook in one hand and my camera in the other.