Finis

Final Conclusions

My great European adventure has at long last run its course. I knew things were done when I overheard a Cincinnatian telling an Italian how amazing Cincinnati was on the flight home. I actually lol’d and the guy gave me a hurt look. Sorry that was rude of me. Anyway now that I have some time to think and reflect on my experiences abroad I offer you this final conclusion to Bretzel Abroad…

Without sounding like that kid who’s dissatisfied with everything because his/her life in Europe was sooo much better, I would like to acknowledge some of the things I’ll miss about studying abroad. First off I would like to address the girl in the elevator that one time who I didn’t speak to, but said, “Ok, well see you later,” when she got off on the third floor. I don’t know you and our interaction confuses me to this day. Also I would like commend the workers of Carlsberg: not only do you produce the greatest cheap beer of all time, but you have the balls to go on strike when the higher ups try to prevent you from drinking on the job. Lastly I will miss all of you creepers. You guys are everywhere and I respect your tenacity.

But for real the best part of studying abroad is meeting new, interesting people. Starting over is never easy and I would like to thank my flatmates for welcoming me into their group as the token American. We laughed together, cried together and got Dave really drunk together. Flat 38 for life. Then there are those Americans who were always down for Tuesday night at Sports Café, Wednesday at the Walkabout, Thursday at Ministry of Sound and Friday at Penthouse. Thanks to you all as well. There’s also the new Georgetown friends I made in London. I look forward to drunkenly recounting America Night I, America Night II and Ruth’s love for Evan next fall. Then there’s the visitors: Erik, Matty C and Richie. Matty C you were by far the lamest of the three. YOU DIDN’T GO OUT ON YOUR 21^st!!!!! But I forgive you. Lastly there are those other special people. Neither American nor British. Mostly I’m just thinking of Wissam and Marilena, but I’m sure there are others. Thank you both for being so awesome. Wissam taught me all about falafel and kebab. And Marilena convinced me that “Greek lovers” (old man, young man relationships of ancient Greece) were no big deal.

The Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the Coliseum, etc. will all be around for me to visit again (hopefully), but for one amazing semester all of our lives crossed paths. As Wissam told me, this is just the conclusion of one stage of life and now it’s time to move on. I wish you all luck and I hope I’ve been able to enrich your lives as much as you’ve enriched mine.

As for you, the readers: thanks for your encouragement over the past couple of months and I hope this blog has made you chuckle at least once or twice.

Cheers,

Bretzel

The Great European Adventure

I started a blog entry as soon as I got back from my trip to the Continent, but never finished it because I had to write three papers. Here's what I wrote. Sorry that it's not finished...

As many of you might have noticed from the sudden influx of newsfeed events on your Facebooks relating to me, I just got back from a ten day vacation to Paris and Italy. I apologize for making your lives in America feel so boring. Now I kept a journal during my travels to remind me of everything I did, but let’s face the facts: you don’t care that I saw the Eiffel Tower at night. Oooo lah lah it was magical et cetera! I’m four months too deep to start a travel diary. You expect the dirt and that’s what I plan to give you. Four college guys can’t go to Europe and not get into trouble right? Righto.

Part 1: Hey do you speak English?: Paris, France

In Paris it rained and was cold. The Louvre and Musee D’Orsay were cool. I froze my ass off outside attempting to sleep outside the airport. The end.

Part 2: One hot night in Rio: Erik in Cinque Terre

After Paris I spent a solo day visiting Milan and Turin. Milan is a dirty, dirty city with nothing to offer except the Duomo. Turin, aka Torino, is nice but has little to offer the average American tourist. From Turin, Dave and I linked up and headed to a place called Cinque Terre. Cinque Terre was my grandfather’s favorite place he visited in Italy last summer so I figured I’d check it out. The name means ‘five lands’ for those of you who aren’t fluent in Italian. Dave and I were staying in the first ‘land’ known as Riomaggiore. Upon our arrival we took a nice hike along the coast and down to the water. I told Dave that I wanted to take a picture of him near the sea and instructed him to get closer and closer to the waves, hoping that he’d be swept away. Unfortunately he caught on to my plan and I was merely left with a nice picture of him with Rio in the back drop. Shucks! From there we continued our journey and discovered some caves! Omg! Once we returned to Rio I hit up an internet café only to realize that Erik was just down the sidewalk Skyping the night away at the train station. For those of you who aren’t consistent readers please go back and read ‘America Night’ so that you can understand the special relationship between Dave and Erik. I think the first thing Erik said when he saw Dave in Cinque Terre was, “Oh shit. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Sparks flew, trust me I was there. Dave and Erik were reunited and a bottle of wine cost 2 Euros: magic was bound to happen. And magic happened indeed. We ate the best pesto pasta to ever grace my lips and I met someone who went to high school with Reback. Crazy sauce. Reback I don’t know if you read this blog, but your boy said you, “pulled mad tail in high school.” I didn’t believe him. In addition to Reback’s h.s. friend we also met Lara, the Aussie, and Al’bear, the Italian/French guy, both of whom were extremely nice people.

We started our night by heading to the Via dell’Amore, aka the Road of Love, where we hopped the fence and drank wine on the rocky Italian coast. The night before Erik had two hotties from Chi-city out on the rocks of Via dell’Amore and they made sea glass, whatever that means ; ). There was no sea glass this night unfortunately, but instead good conversation…well until we started talking about politics. I can’t even begin to describe the number of times I’ve been asked by foreigners, “So you love Obama right?” The answer is no. I don’t love Obama. I like to date a person for at least three or four months before I make a confession of love. Obama is a nice guy, but I’m not really into smokers. It drives me crazy that people are on his d all the time, especially people who can’t name more than one Republican (Sarah Palin). Which brings up the next plot point in this story: Erik loves Sarah Palin. They have the Alaska connection and normally Erik loves to talk about her (side note: Erik loves the sexy former governor but realizes she’s a crap politician). However on this particular night he opted out of the political convo and decided to go drunk night rock climbing. I told myself after Freshman year that I was done worrying about drunk people and I tried to remain composed. Having said that, it was pitch black and I had a bad feeling Erik was going to fall to his death. Luckily he didn’t. Dave stepped into the sea though when he went to relieve himself. There’s nothing better than cold squishy socks right Dave?

...That's all I had. Here's a short summary of the rest of the trip: we closed down the bar in Cinque Terre and Erik disappeared. The next day his laptop, hat and chapstick were all gone. In Florence I made a fool of myself and lost three hours of my life. Ask Richie or Dave for the details but I came to throwing up in a trash can back at the hotel. Fun times. Lastly in Rome we went to an ice bar with my friend Amart. The next night we went on a sketchy bar crawl. There were so many creepers there and Richie got a drink thrown all over his shirt.