My life was suddenly a new level of nightmare for claustrophobics—it was hard to tell at first, but it became clear the British bus had in fact driven into a train, parked, and said train was moving into the ocean. Thankfully I didn’t feel claustrophobic, and instead felt enlightened, especially when the sunlight of the French countryside hit me right in the eyeball an hour later.

Immediately after my eyesight recovered I started writing this. Watching the fall colors in the European countryside moved me more than I was expecting. My eighth visit to this continent that felt like another home was also my first visit outside of the summer.

 

My decision to go was made less than a week before. I’m afraid I nearly killed the immigration officer when he asked me why I’m here and I replied that I heard the election results and needed to leave. I raised an eyebrow as he doubled over as much as a government official sitting in a chair could.

I like alarming myself. Being impulsive. Traveling is the most exhausting thing I know how to do, yet at the same time it energizes me in ways money and power could never come close to.

Travel is a skill I have actively pursued to become better at. Even if it means weaving it seamlessly into my academics. And it must be practiced to be appreciated, which is why I always dread a trip until my body is physically moving through a foreign scenario and my mind is racing to figure it out. Then I remember why I am the way I am.

 

Ghent, Belgium

My friends hosted me, or should I say spoiled me, for a week. I met them while backpacking Brazil, but this time I got to live as they lived. It was the most cultural exchange I had shared with anyone. A surprising amount of recipes from Belgium, China, and the U.S. were involved.

With France merely an hour away, we loaded up on dollar brie. Which meant we had to pair it with wine. Which meant I learned that while the Dutch say proost for cheers, the Dutch-speaking Belgians use sante.

 

 

The small city had a richer history than I had expected and it was obvious. Pizza Huts and H&M would sit across from castles and bell towers. We disappeared into a cathedral to admire a Ruben. In a small chapel hid van Eyck’s exquisitely detailed Lamgods.

On Thanksgiving we all shared a home-cooked meal. I tried over a dozen ales. I took home even more pralines. Dancing until dawn was a success. I got used to watching cigarettes slowly shrink away while we sat chatting on the windowsill overlooking a park.

It was wet season but it never rained. We celebrated by going on runs and hikes away from the city center. Even a flat tire couldn’t stop us from having the perfect time.

 

 

London, United Kingdom

Anna and I have a deep bond that dates back to Kenya. We were roommates who had and still have each other’s backs.

I felt true love when she told me she worked a night shift before hopping straight on a bus just so we could have our day.

 

 

The reunion had us wired. We took wrong buses and screamed after the right ones as they pulled away from the stops, leaving us out of breath and on the streets. She showed me Camden Town and gave me English Christmas gifts. Date night was of course fish and chips.

 

 

The trip left me feeling European-ish. I am permanently changed by the kindness and good habits my friends rubbed off on me.