Other than a day trip to Canada, going to Europe was the first time that I’d left the United States. We were there for almost a month and it was the experience of a lifetime. My husband, his sister, my best friend, and I traveled Europe together making it a giant road trip. When you look at our photos you see happy snapshots of us on gondolas in Venice, us in front of the Eiffel Tower, us at the Cliffs of Moher. Between the happy snapshots are the pictures that we left out of the album. The moments that were at the time painful, scary, and humbling—the moments that are now entertaining and downright unbelievable in number; these stories set our trip apart.
In our Europe album you won’t find pictures of a heart attack in London. You won’t find pictures of me vomiting for days in Ireland. You won’t find pictures of an ambulance ride in Paris. You will only find pictures of smiles, laughter, and sunshine. The truth is, that when I outline for you each crazy event of our journey you probably won’t believe the story I tell you. Too many bad things happened for it to be a believable story.
With all of that negativity, I still find myself saving every spare penny to go back to that place, that for some reason I found so magical. Something about being somewhere so foreign, and finding people that will take care of you when you are at your absolute worst renews your faith in humanity. Somehow, we all came through the wreckage no worse for wear—each of us with a desire to go back and do it all over again.