In the fall of 1992, I had the opportunity to go to school in England as a foreign-exchange student. There were two really memorable trips that I went on. The first was to Ireland and the second was to France.
What was so memorable about Ireland was having gotten separated from the girl I was with. Her name was Michelle, and she was from Chicago. Somehow, we were paired up by our school to be travel partners, although we didn't know each other. We really didn't get along all that great either, although we didn't find this out until much later. While we were in Ireland, we were planning to meet up with someone, but my alarm clock did not wake me. The girl was really mad at me, and we just seemed to argue the rest of the trip. We wound up missing the train
that would have taken us from Killarney to Dublin, and she proceeded to be nasty with me further. At that point, I'd had it and just conveniently lost her. So, there I was alone in a foreign country but away from her. My dilemma was I really had no money to stay anywhere and needed to be to Dublin, so I could catch the ferry back to Wales to catch the train to go back to school in Grantham, England. There was only one train left to get back to Dublin too, so if I missed it, I would be wandering the Ireland streets at night. So, I made it a point to astutely pay attention to my watch and the departure times. I probably had about 2 hours to kill, before it left. Then, I kept to myself a lot on the train because I was concerned about being a young woman, all alone in a foreign country, and the possibility of being taken advantage of. However, I did observe a woman with her daughter and struck up a conversation with them. After a while, I did tell them my situation. They were very concerned and offered me a place to stay and a ride to the ferry the next morning. WHAT A GODSEND! So, yes, I took them up on their offer, and that night, I stayed up a bit talking to the 16-year old daughter and just getting to learn more about Ireland from a native that I would not have gotten the opportunity to learn about. She told me stories about how strict their schools were and sneaking out at night and going to concerts. There is just so much you'll never learn about different cultures reading about them from text books.
France. France was a dream come true. I had studied French all four years in high school and for two in college. Once again, I had gotten separated from my school group. This time, it was planned though. The group was going to a planned tour to a perfume factory, which I absolutely had no interest in going to. I had not studied about France for all that time to miss out on the main sites of gay Paris, so I hoofed it. I walked day and night across Paris. I went to the Eiffel Tower, la Rive Seine, le Père la Chaise Cimetière, (where I paid my respects to Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison), le Louvre, l'Arc de Triomphe, Bon Marché, a post office, and yes, to a train station.
One other time, while I was in Paris, another interesting opportunity came about. A couple of guys in our group were arguing over something really stupid, and I honestly don't remember what it was about. I saw a chance to split the two up, before it became violent. So, I intervened. The one guy called me a name and said he didn't care what I had to say. The other guy, I talked him into going to get a drink with me. Didn't know the guy real well, but we became friends after that. Besides, I really didn't want to spend an evening in Paris confined to my hotel room watching TV. So, we went to a bar and started talking to the bartender, who spoke perfect English, which was really great because Phil didn't know French. He talked about the Moulin Rouge (the Red District), which you really don't hear too much about in French class, and all of the beautiful women. He was talking about how all the beautiful women come out at night and that we should really go there. It was our last night there, unfortunately, or maybe we might have gone. At the end of the night, I gave Phil a customary French kiss, which is a kiss on both cheeks. Nothing romantic there. :-)
On one of the trips, I went to Liverpool, which is home of the Beatles. I went with a friend on this trip, and we went to the Beatles Museum, which was pretty exciting or psychedelic might be the appropriate word. I was a huge Beatles fan in high school, thanks to a guy I had dated, and just had to go there.
The girl I had gone with her name was Lisa, and this sweetheart enjoyed my company so much that she invited me on a trip to Leeds and paid my way. I had no money to go on the trip, but I gave her my French currency, and we called it even. We had a great time and experienced our first roasted chestnuts. I know that sounds like a strange memory to bring up, but when you hear the song "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire" all your life and have to come to England just to try one, it's pretty lame. So, we buy our chestnuts, and I start to eat one. The guy quickly tells me that I have to peel the shell off first.-- Duh! Was I a tourist or what? :-)
Those were some of the more interesting trips I had in Europe. I had friends, who were fortunate enough to go to Greece, the Soviet Union, and Italy. Although I didn't get to go to those places, I still had a great time and went to London several times, once to see Les Misèrables, Cats, and Le Mariage de Figaro, (my first opera). I am so glad for all those great times during college because as I've become an adult, my life tends to be more focused on working and raising kids. Never will I let my sense of adventure die though, and I always always always will look to the future for more fun.
You never told me of your adventures. Maybe because the call was so expensive.Well written.
ReplyDeleteThanks Mom! Yeah, this was the very shortened version of those trips. I think you might've come unglued, back then, had I told you of some of these mishaps. The world was a much safer place back then compared to what it is now though.
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