Europe Year

When I was 18 I spent ten days traveling around Italy with my mother.  I saw famous works of art, spoke in snippets of Italian, and ate a lot of gelato.  I chased chickens in a tiny village outside of Rome and got a fashionable haircut at a salon in Florence.  I loved every minute of my trip.  From that time I have had the urge to travel again--to see, to do, to taste.  In college I would scour the Internet for affordable flights to someplace new.  Sometimes I found amazing deals and would spend hours daydreaming of an Irish holiday or a beach-bound getaway until I remembered reality.  I had school or work or a dwindling bank account.  This was not the right time for travel, but someday.... 

My last night in Mexico I promised these two we'd
see each other again in Europe.
We reunited for Christmas in Worcestershire.

Two years ago, bored with my dead-end job and the dull routine of commute/work/commute/Netflix, I decided it was finally time to make "someday" happen.  

Outside the Blue Church in Bratislava

I can say with absolute sincerity that in all my daydreams of travel, I never dreamed of Mexico or of Poland.  When I imagined myself living and teaching abroad, I pictured Italy or Costa Rica--somewhere glamorous, sexy, desirable.  I dreamed of a destination that others would secretly envy, and rural Mexico and Poland just didn't seem to fit that bill.  The name Poland always seemed to conjure up images of a grim, formerly Soviet state with harsh lines in its environment and its people.  This is the bias of those who have only traveled in Western Europe.  When people asked me if I would consider staying in Warsaw longer than my one-year contract, I didn't say no, but I secretly doubted that I would.  Now my year here has expired and as I prepare for the next year here, I cannot even think about leaving.  Not yet.

And now that I've officially reached August 10, the day a year ago I landed in Warsaw, I feel bound by sentimentality to make some sort of post.  I have survived a year of Polish weather and its vindictive volatility  (seriously, it was boiling hot yesterday afternoon and pouring torrential rain last night) and I have survived the equally vindictive Polish wódka.  I've survived Polish travel and Polish grocery stores.  Most importantly, I have survived interactions in Polish.  It has been trying, frustrating, humiliating, and humbling, and I've loved it all.  

Looking down from Buda Hill in Budapest, Easter 2013

My last night in Tehuacan, between shots of tequila and goodbye hugs, I promised my friends that we would meet again within a year.  Next year, I swore, next year would be Europe Year, the year I went to Europe to travel, teach, and live a glamorous ex-pat life.  I like to think that since coming to Warsaw, I've done well living up to that goal.

Midnight in Logrono: giggling with my best friend as we
discovered this musical park outside the town's science museum

Sunset on the beach in Sopot, just after I dipped my toes in the Baltic Sea

Riding the Flåmsbana from Myrdal to Flåm in Norway.  Not 

a bad view, eh?

Reverting to my natural state of "little kid excitement" as
we approach the carriage house and see the carriage and
horses at Łańcut Castle outside of Rzeszow

Overlooking Lake Hancza in the Suwalszczyzna, or the
Suwalki region in Northeastern Poland

Happy Toes!  Sunbathing on the Black Sea in Burgas, Bulgaria