KC On The Go

Last week, I posted on my Instagram account about my lifelong love of Europe. That inspired me to write this post. I don’t quite know how to properly describe how I feel or why I feel the way I do but this ache, this longing, has never gone away. Europe is undoubtedly a popular travel destination and I’m certainly not the first person to fall in love with its charms. Having said that, I think a lot of people don’t really understand the depth of my adoration, I’ve gotten, “Are you telling me you can’t just be happy here?” or “You’re going back to Europe again? Why don’t you travel other places?” I absolutely would love to travel other places as well, and plan to, but the heart wants what it wants. And this is where is all began…

As early as I can remember, I’ve had a fascination with Europe. Hours were spent with pen and paper in hand drawing maps of European countries, reading about them, trying to learn what all their flags looked like. I’m told that I let it be known at an early age that I wanted to go to Paris. All my favorite movie actors had English accents – I can’t tell you how many times I watched Mary Poppins or The Sound of Music or The Parent Trap. I even wrote a paper in third grade about Julie Andrews and how she was my favorite person!

I had a wonderful childhood, I feel very fortunate and grateful but our family vacations did not consist of jetting off to faraway lands. Really, how many families in the US with kids have the ability to do such things, especially when said kids have their own activities? So, I’m not complaining but it does leave me to wonder – how did all this happen? How does a 6 or 7 year old get it in her head that she just HAS to go to Paris? Who did I think I was?

When I was in high school, the moment I had seemingly been preparing for my entire life arrived. I was in the Drama Club and the director announced he was planning an educational trip to the United Kingdom, the “Shakespeare, Dickens and Scott” tour – a tour from London to Edinburgh stopping at theatrically historic locations along the way. My time had finally come. When I brought the paperwork home, my parents must have looked at my face then looked at each other and realized there was no way they weren’t sending me on this trip.

And just like that, I was all signed up for the trip that would completely change my life. As if it wasn’t great enough that my parents were sending me on the trip, they even signed the waiver to allow me to “taste the local spirits” – I was winning at life! Months of preparation began that included me renting every video set in England ever made…and I mean, videos of the countryside with sheep grazing. I would stare at these videos for hours. I’m not lying. Then one mid-April night, I boarded my very first plane, a Virgin Atlantic 747 headed for Heathrow. It was such a special experience, I’m getting chills just writing about it now.

There are so many moments from this trip that I remember as clear as if they happened yesterday, like calling my parents collect from a phone booth on the streets of Doncaster. I remember Vince our bus driver and Linda our lovely tour guide waving her red umbrella around and how she visited us in New Jersey the next year. I remember absolutely loving Edinburgh and eating haggis for the first (and as of this publication, only) time. I remember singing the soundtrack from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat on the coach and annoying the group from Florida that traveled with us. And that’s just to name a few. Other memories are a bit fuzzy, like I don’t actually remember going to York at all but I know we did because I found an itinerary (see above) that I kept. Sorry York – it’s not you, it’s me.

Perhaps the most poignant memory is from that very first night. A group of us went out walking sans chaperones after dinner, a bunch of jet-lagged 14-18 year olds just wandering around exploring London and I remember the feeling of joy I had that night – that moment right then and there had been by far the most amazing thing that had happened in my 16 years (thanks mom and dad!). From that moment, I knew there was no going back for me (sorry mom and dad!). I immediately fell in love with the history, the culture, the architecture. Everything is so old, it’s awe-inspiring!

From there, it would be a torturous 12 years before my feet would touch European soil again. 12 years!!! 12 years of listening to friends tell me all about their European trips with envy. Life happens, you go to college and then you get a job that doesn’t pay a lot and you have student loans to pay off and jetting off to Europe isn’t as easy as it was on your parents’ dime. Or that’s what I told myself at the time.

In those 12 years, not only did I constantly dream and talk and watch shows about European vacations (I’m looking at you Passport to Europe) but my boyfriend at the time and I even considered a move to London (it’s always been you, London…except when I was 6 and it was Paris). Sometimes, I look back on these years and I do wish I had taken more trips to Europe but honestly, it’s so much better looking forward to all the trips I will be taking.

Now, here I am, an adult and I’ve been to several European countries and hope to add more to that list soon but you never forget your first. So here’s to life changing experiences and learning about different cultures. And here’s to my high school drama club director for taking a bunch of teenagers on the ultimate field trip to another continent. But most of all, here’s to my awesome parents because if they hadn’t sent me…well, I would have gone on my own eventually…but there’s nothing quite like going abroad in your youth. Have you gone anywhere that completely blew you away and changed your life or way of thinking? I would absolutely love to hear about it – leave a comment!

Until next time, cheers!