Tales of Spring Break

“We travel to learn; and I have never been in any country where they did not do something better than we do it, think some thoughts better than we think, catch some inspiration from heights above our own.” — Maria Mitchell

Ten days of travel, three cities, two Australians, and one backpack made up my crazy spring break this year. It was stressful, challenging, and at times, more than tiring. But I made it back to Florence last Sunday, with dirty hair and tired eyes, having met many interesting people and seen places I'll never forget. Spring Break 2015, you were worth it.

On Friday the 20th, Chels and I found ourselves sprinting through the Milan airport, having not anticipated how long the bus ride there would be. My short legs were on fire when we finally arrived at the gate. Turns out everyone was just waiting around and the plane was only half boarded. I was out of breath and pissed that we rushed for no reason, but I shrugged because I was on my way to London. I repeat, LONDON.

After a quick flight sitting next to two nice British guys, we landed in London and took the tube to my friend Casey's dorm. **Author's note: Shout out to Casey Elizabeth O' Connor for letting us crash** I was quite proud of us, actually. We navigated the London Underground with no mistakes whatsoever. Meanwhile, we also listened to the desirable British accents everyone around us had. Did you know that if someone has a British accent, they're automatically 10% more attractive? It's true, look it up.

London, England is massively larger than I assumed, though to be fair, I've been living in little ole Florence for so long. You have to take the tube everywhere, where you'll meet grown adults who can't read and little girls reciting the story of Cinderella to her mom. At the Westminster stop, we were able to hop off and come face to face with Big Ben. He's quite a goodlooking lad, that Benny. With its black gates and gold trim, Buckingham Palace was also mesmerizing to gaze at, even if Prince Harry forgot that we had dinner plans :/ But it's okay, because I had the traditional fish and chips twice in one day. That night, we went to a pub in Piccadilly Circus, which reminded me of Times Square in New York. Bright lights, people bumping into you, vendors trying to sell you things. The norm.

It was warm and sunny the next day, rather unusual for London, when we ventured over to Kensington to visit the Parent Trap house. We reverted back to being little girls, reciting lines from the 1998 film that was once our favorite. But then we got serious and headed over to Abbey Road. Watching people try to get pictures on this thing is HILARIOUS. We tried to wait for cars to pass, but some tourists will literally stop in the middle of the street just to do the Beatles pose. If you're looking for a laugh, visit this link to watch the live feed. More than likely, you'll catch people holding up traffic trying to get the perfect picture. I'll admit though, getting to walk across such an iconic road was one to remember.

Riding the London Eye was top priority the following day, but not until we met a girl our age who had been traveling Europe for eight months on her own. She was from Seattle and had even made it to Morocco once. "I'm headed to Asia next," she said before offering to take our picture. And then she was off, wishing us good luck on the rest of the semester. The line for The Eye was shorter than expected and we hopped on our car with about fifteen other people. From the top, you can see the whole city, in all it's history and royalty. I'm so happy to say I've now been on the largest ferris wheel in the world. After that, we got lunch and walked along the Thames River. Did I leave my iPhone at the restaurant and have to go back? It's possible. Anyway, we got to see the Millenium Bridge that collapsed in Harry Potter 6 and the Tower Bridge which is just downright cool. Another dinner and beer at a pub rounded up our last night in Londontown. The next afternoon, we were en route to Paris.

It was late and raining when we arrived at our hostel that night. We were staying in a mixed 8-bed room. I wanted to crash on my bed, but a Brazilian named Fabio immediately started chatting with us and asked if we wanted to get food. He brought us to a kebab place and ordered for us in French. Thanks, Fabio, you were ever so helpful. After a beer at our hostel, we fell right asleep to get up early the next morning.

Eiffel in love with a tower! Steel and lace, they say, creates the Eiffel Tower, and they're so right. We traveled to the absolute top, where wind slapped my hair in my face, but I could still see every building in that beautiful city. I also learned that the tower has a restaurant halfway up. God knows how expensive that place is, but I'll keep it in mind for when I'm rich. The Eiffel Tower is utterly captivating, especially at night. Every hour, it sparkles on cue, as if it doesn't already, and you can buy crepes from the vendors nearby. If you know me, you know I didn't skip a beat to buy one filled with Nutella. However, I did hesitate at dinner when we ordered escargot aka snail. It tastes kind of like fish, but I'll never get it again. A girl can only eat so many snails in her life. I also had chicken with chutney and mashed potatoes, which were significantly more delightful than the escargot. Food in Paris was successful.

Under a rainy sky the next day, we made it to the Louvre Museum. Being a student came in handy, because we got in for free. Score. The Mona Lisa was naturally our main concern, but along the way we studied paintings that took up the entire wall and ancient artifacts from Greece. We even came across the Venus de Milo, which is actually from around 100 BC. Totally insane to think I took a picture of it with my freaking iPhone. And then we finally found my girl Mona, where people were crowded around her. Don't worry, there's a rope and glass so no one can get too close. She smirked at me. I smirked back. Claps to you, Mr. da Vinci, for painting such a beauty. To sum up our last night in Paris, we traveled to the Notre Dame and Moulin Rouge. Two different atmospheres, but both fun to check out. Moulin Rouge really made me want to sing Lady Marmalade in my best Christina Aguilera impression, but I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea ;)

In all, I wish I could take back every rude stereotype about the French that's ever passed my lips. Because the words that pass their lips, that beautiful free flowing language, is far from anything to criticize. I loved Paris. I loved its natives like I do New Yorkers; pretentious because they feel the right to be. I loved the Eiffel Tower, cliché in all my glory. And I loved the pink flowers blossomed on every tree in the city. It's entrancing– Paris in the spring. My brother always said I'd love it there and I never truly believed him. "I swear," he said for years. "I can see you spending hours, just getting lost in its streets." And I did. I guess my brother knows me better than I know myself. Because I didn't expect to appreciate a city built entirely on romance, to idolize the high-end fashion garnishing its avenues, to fall in love with a culture so different from my own. But I did.

Back at the hostel, we met a 65-year-old woman from New York who was taking French lessons to one day move to the south of France. "I'm retired now. I just want to live on the beach and get a dog and speak fluent French," she told us. "It's my dream." Her name was Patty. She had been all over Europe and advised us to never stop traveling. Upstairs in our room, we stayed up late talking with Fabio and the Australians in their 20's. We discussed all the different terms we have for things in our countries, the places we want to visit, our college experiences. Right before bed, the Australian guy said, "Good luck with life, guys. Isn't it weird? We'll only ever have one life crossing." I thought, how weird is that? I'll never see these people again. I'll never know if Patty makes it to the French Riviera. Or if Fabio gets a job in computer science out in San Francisco. Or where the hell those funny Australians end up. Probably Thailand or something. But maybe I'm not supposed to know. Maybe some people, and even places, are only meant to be met once. Maybe that's the thing about travel; you stay just long enough for those sparkled moments, and then you're on your way.

Barcelona, which required us to be up at 5 am, was our last city on spring break. The weather was phenomenal and the palm trees felt like childhood in Florida. After a horrible couple hours of getting lost finding the hostel, we had quesadillas for lunch and then tried churros. Those things are mouthwatering treats...and that's an understatement. Chels and I then met up with other girls we know from school. We went out for dinner that night and got fruity drinks. The city is bustling at night with people of all ages, especially down by the docks. Barcelona was turning out to be my favorite city.

We got up the next morning to go on a historical tour. Our tour guide was full of life and kept my attention the entire time. We learned a lot about Barcelona gaining independence and the living conditions for peasants in the olden days. After the tour, under the beating sun, we walked down to the beach and got a couple pitchers of sangria. Losing track of time, we tanned on the sand for a few hours, and then remembered we still wanted to see Parc Guell. We sped across town and even got in for free! The park is filled with colorful mosaic walls and benches, overseeing the city all the way to the beach. I may have paid one euro to buy chips just to use the bathroom, but I would never have wanted to miss out on that park. The final place we toured was the Sagrada Familia, the city's Roman Catholic church. Saturday night mass was being held for Palm Sunday when we strolled in. Antoni Gaudi, who designed the cathedral and various other buildings in the city, is buried within the church. The Sagarda Familia is always being advanced and might never be finished, but it's the most intricate cathedral I've ever seen.

Dinner that night was filled with more sangria (guilty) and different types of tapas, including Spanish omelets, calamari, spicy potatoes, and guacamole salad. Some of the best food I've eaten in Europe thus far. We had chocolate churros afterward and headed back to the hostel. Our flight was early the next morning and we were losing an hour due to the time change. Basically, we all got three hours of sleep and had to take a bus to the airport in the dark. I said my goodbye to Barcelona, but I'm going back one day. I haven't had enough of the Spaniards.

By the time we got back to Florence, I needed sleep. I crawled under my covers and immediately took a nap. ME, who once didn't sleep at night for a year, actually took a NAP. That's how exhausted I was. But I was also filled with the sound of British accents, the taste of Spanish air, and the feel of steel on Paris' most classic momument. I may have gotten lost a million times over those ten days, but I found my way back. I returned to Florence just in time to see the Opera a couple days later. Italy will always feel like home here in Europe, but I'm thrilled to have experienced a bit of some other countries.

Spring break taught me a lot and I still have farther ways to go. In fact, I leave for my Croatian weekend tomorrow afternoon. There isn't a doubt in my mind that I'll learn some valuable lessons in Croatia. I'll be back soon with more stories. Stories of meeting unique people, trying food that I can barely spell, and losing my way until I can find it again.

A presto!

Lights out,

Britt