10 Years Ago

Was it yesterday, Thursday, or was it Wednesday evening when I realized that it's been 10 years since I visited Europe in June 0f 1996?

The journal I wrote in on that trip, the one with the Paris Métro ticket design on the cover, has its first entry marked June 3, 1996, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. I was not yet 24 years old (my birthday would be later in the month). This journey would be the farthest I'd ever traveled away from my small Illinois town.

It was a Monday when I departed with the tour group--to visit five countries in ten days (England, France, Switzerland, [a small jaunt into Liechtenstein], Austria, and Germany). As I reread my journal of the trip, I see that we spent most of the time traveling on buses, getting from one place to another. And I mostly remember how HOT it was that week. The temperature was 90 degrees almost every day. I got a sunburn from sitting next to the window on the bus during an 8-hour drive from Dunkirk to Paris.

Yes, that Dunkirk, and all I wrote was that we disembarked there on the ferry from England. I wrote nothing about the people, the ambience, the real details. I basically reported what we did while on tour. But I can't blame myself for not being more descriptive in that journal. I was barely a year into keeping a journal, and by no means was I journaling daily (but I did manage to journal daily for the length of the trip). I suppose I thought that my pictures from that time would tell the real story.

A lot of my perceptions have faded. I don't remember the sounds, or how I felt, other than I was overwhelmed. I do remember that it seemed like EVERYONE smoked in Europe. I could hardly walk anywhere without being enveloped by a noxious cloud of cigarette smoke. It was also hot and crowded wherever we went. Seeing Versailles when it's 90 degrees outside and there's no shade is not very much fun. You're too hot to concentrate on the details. (I should have brought a hat!) I also remember feeling disoriented in directions during the whole trip. For some reason, east and west seemed mixed up.

Alas, I wrote down absolutely no details about the countryside we were traveling through. I do remember that the northern French countryside reminded all of us of home. I remember how I practiced my French on the shopkeeper in a touristy knick-knack shop near Versailles, and when I tried to ask for an empty glass in a café, but I forgot to say "empty." She brought me a full glass of Coke--with no ice.

People complained a lot on our trip. The hotels had no ice, no washcloths. Two people had encounters with pickpockets; one woman's wallet was stolen, but the other woman screamed and her attacker ran off. We were easy targets--loud, absentminded Americans.

Touring like that is exhausting. My ankles swelled up on the second day of the trip and I was often too tired to go out in the evenings or when we had free time. In Lausanne, it rained that night, and I walked with others down to Lake Geneva--it was a goodly hike back UPhill to the hotel. We were up early every morning and in bed late every night. Most of the time was spent traveling on the bus. If and when I ever return to Europe, it will be one country, or one city. Five countries is too many.

I enjoyed my trip, but I was glad to get back home. I missed the flatness of Illinois. I missed Diet Mt. Dew. I missed the way things are done here in the U.S. I missed my family and friends. It was worth it. If I never get to visit Europe again, at least I can say I saw the Mona Lisa, Neuschwanstein, the Tower of London, and my doppelganger in King Ludwig's Beauty Gallery.