Adulting in Europe

I have had the good fortune to travel. Just out of my teens, old enough to appreciate the gift and young enough to make the most if it, I was sent off, along with my brothers, to run amok for months through Europe on a budget. We had so many adventures, travelling through countries without the binds of parents, which would change each one of us and create memories to treasure. Our dad was Swiss born and his chilled out parenting style was never more apparent as when he sent us off packing, passing out Euro rail passes, paper maps, and pocket money while waving and laughing. We would be gone for months with only each other, learning life lessons and collecting adult experiences. Day one with nerves for breakfast, we strapped on monster sized mountaineering backpacks and hiked across the creek to wait at the train tracks. We would leave at the crack of dawn to catch the earliest train from his Swiss chalet. We would grin wildly and wave at our Dad who smiled wisely while watching from the terrace. We would carefully map out the countries we planned to visit, assuring we would sleep on the trains for the duration of the travel and awake upon arriving in new cities. That was about as far out as our planning would allow. Once we were unleashed from our baggage, we would free style our visits. Finding places to stay on a budget and getting lost in the villages were typical days in our lives’ privileges. This was the year 2000, before tragedy struck the US and the internet created havoc. Although we were young and it wasn’t yet demanded, we were incredibly aware of our privilege and were bowled over with gratitude. Our Dad came from nothing and worked hard his whole life, but he instilled in us humility and the importance of generosity. Allowing us the opportunity to see parts of the world we only knew from books and movies, he gifted us with an appreciation for life in other cultures.

We would be gone for months at a time. These were the days before smart phones. So checking in with the parents would be a race to the payphone found in train stations during stops that were brief and intermittent. Laughs were abundant unlike funding, so stretching a dollar became a challenge and lessons in budgeting were aplenty. For years after these couple of summers, the three of us ruled family dinners with our inside jokes and stories told over and over. We weren’t the type of kids who spent half the time in Amsterdam, either. We planned in as many cities, some popular ..others unheard of, down to the very last minute. 36 hours for Paris, but 3 days in Budapest, we traipsed all over Europe and drank in the history. History was a guide, for we had so many questions. Literature made some impact in selecting choice cities. Art and Culture had a seat at the table in our itinerary planning. Researching our upcoming destinations was crucial, but allowing an organic adventure to happen was more important in our opinions.

Disposable cameras were dense in our luggage, but those memories captured without edit, would provide belly laughs and framed treasures for ages. You would think we would have argued as most siblings tend to, but days flew by swiftly without any issues. Bonds were strengthened. Friendships were cemented. I have never laughed harder than those summers of railway adventures. A coming of age in a European summer was so much better than conceiving any other. We accidently ate horse, left our youngest brother in Athens, we split up for 48 hours and joined back up in Amsterdam. Our other brother was almost accosted in the red light district as we were chased down by prostitutes whose pimps appeared like magic. We were yelled at in Finnish, got lost in cobblestone conundrums, drank beers in olden castles, ordered food without translating language, laughed at menus in Greece, befriended strangers from all over, rode trains in east Europe communist heat and danced until dawn on Spain’s beaches. Our bellies hurt constantly from copious amounts of laughter and we acted like fools simply for each other’s pleasure. We ate pears right off pear trees and ogled at wild pumpkins growing rampant. We lent each other money and forgot about it after. Too many inside jokes and stories told for too many years after kept our father’s eyes twinkling knowing his investment made a difference.

Now as a parent I get it. What a brave move he made in trusting his three teenagers with such a big gift at that age. I will always think back on those summers and wish I kept a journal but as the years pass by, my memories stay as fresh and filled with wonder. Throughout the years, my brothers and I have had our troubles. No one is safe from siblings’ rivals, backstabbing or blunders. But we will always have those summers and all it takes is the start of one story to get us rolling with laughing and reliving our shared journeys.