I'm going to Europe. On Wednesday. For sixteen days. Is this crazy to anyone else? If not, it probably should be.
This has been one of the busier summers of my life. (I can't decide between this summer and working full time two summers ago. This one probably actually wins. I've spent much less time at home, and that's kind of how I describe busy.) This Europe trip seems to be just one more exciting thing to cross off the list. But it's more than that. It's the only thing I've done this summer that's made me nervous. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly excited for this adventure. I just happen to be terrified at the same time.
I keep getting lectured on not getting robbed. Apparently it's a big concern over there. I'll let you in on a little secret: I'm kind of naive. I've only ever remembered living in Utah. Utah is a wonderful place, and I love not worrying about getting robbed as I walk down the street in just my socks. Of course I'm more careful at night and such, but this is different. I'm going to a place where there are trained professionals ready to steal my stuff and feel good about it. I've been told not to be warm and friendly to everyone I see on the street. Apparently a smile means more to some people. I've been told to keep track of all my stuff at all times. I've been told to never go anywhere without someone else. I've been told to not listen to the stories of people I meet, for fear of someone else coming up to cut the strap of my purse or to steal my camera. In short, I've kind of been told to not give in to any of my natural reactions while walking the streets of Europe. It's going to be a wondrous adventure, but it's also going to be a big challenge. And I am scared.
This time next week, I will probably be walking down some street in France. Perhaps I'll be eating a pastry. Or singing in a cathedral.
I'm ready for a big adventure before really moving out. I think this just might be it.
