"A Sophomore's Story" Europe by richiecdisc

The first trip abroad is the dream of every college sophomore in the states. Continually reminded of our lack of cultural history, we yearn for the varied and considerable display that only Europe can give. Nowhere else is there such an immense variety of cultures so closely clustered; with old castles, cathedrals, and cobble- stone streets to lure our imaginations to another time, and foods and drink to do likewise with our other senses. That first trip to Europe changes you forever. Somehow, you seem worldlier. You have seen things you had only read about. Walked in rooms that kings once roamed. Gazed in awe at artistic bliss. Tasted things that made you smile and sometimes maybe wince. No, you are not the same person that left home a few months before.

I was one of the lucky ones. My parents consented (read: paid) to let me study abroad for my sophomore year. I had been chosen to study psychology at a prestigious northern UK university but chose to follow my college roommate to Brighton. Not a good scholastic move, but a fun one. As a precursor to school, we would embark on the customary month long romp around the continent. At nineteen, and with a limited budget, we planned a trip to take full advantage of our Eurail pass, sleeping mostly on the trains and waking every couple of days in not only another city but another culture. We’d make sure we saw all the sights, and visit the museums of importance, but never lost sight of our true calling, to have as much fun as humanly possible; to pack a life time of memories into a month. We’d eat whatever we saw, no matter how weird it was. In Italy we’d drink wine, Germany beer. Met lots of other students doing the same thing. It was a blast most of the time and scary at others, but always it was memorable. I unfortunately didn’t keep a journal in those days; I figured I’d remember things forever. That was when I thought forty was old too! And worse yet, I had no camera. I was the very first of my entire family to do anything like this and as traveling was not part of our family heritage, we just didn’t think that much about pictures I guess. And so I have no pictures from that first trip, and no written words to jog my memory. But I do have some stories to tell, though they are a bit hazy and worse for wear. I’ll try and put some of them here and do have some black and white photos from the photography class I took when I got to school in the UK after our jaunt.

And then I got lucky. I got to do it all over again. Of course, I swore I’d be back right away but as with many others, this became a pipedream of sorts. It would take the meeting of a young girl to rekindle the desire to travel. A then nineteen-year-old Kristin would cajole me into taking her on a trip as she’d heard me tell tales of, from ten years earlier. It would be a more pleasant trip, more relaxed. No more sleeping on the trains, and if we did, we got sleepers. Instead of hostels, we stayed in people’s homes. We still traveled on the cheap, but we had more money and more time. Two months made for a trip that allowed for a more genuine feel for each place we went and in many ways surpassed my original. It wasn’t as earth shattering for me perhaps, but through her eyes, I could still see the wonder, though now as a bit of a guide in places I had been. But there would be some new places to explore together too. Again, no journal but at least there was a camera, though photographic skill was severely lacking. At least I have a point of reference.

I have been back to Europe on numerous occasions since and often to Germany when dating a German girl named Ina, who became my travel partner for four years after Kristin and I broke up. This was a different kind of European travel, in a private car, as I imagine locals would do. She tended to travel at a slower pace than the always rushing approach of us Americans and for this I must thank her for slowing me down a bit to really get a feel for some places. My best European photos are from this period.

This will be an attempt to put all these trips together. The latter are well represented on VT pages already so will mostly use photos from them, some from my second trip with Kristin along with some funny memories, and hopefully some of the spirit of my virgin trip abroad in 1978. Well, here goes……