Tour De Deutschland

We awoke very early our second day in Germany, as we had places to go, people to see, and things to do. On our second day, we would be getting a tour of the area and the local city. And, who should be giving us the tour, but a couple of 11 and 12 year old children who are required to do this tour as part of their Elementary School graduation?

One we got to the gymnasium (their word for high school), I was blown away by the modernity of it in the middle of the city. We got there, and the teacher himself actually prepared a full buffet for all of us. I don't know why we were getting so many buffets in Europe and ‘all you can eat’ type deals, but as hungry high schoolers, we were very thankful every step of the way. Not to mention the fact that all their food is fresh, usually organic, and doesn't contain all of the nasty preservatives and chemicals that food in the states does.

The different varieties of juice, the different breakfast foods… all of it, fantastic.

And so, we met our tour guides, Anna and Lena, told ourselves a bit about ourselves and vice versa for them, and then we loaded onto a bus for the hillside just outside the city of Freiburg. When our tour guides were confused about something, they would ask somebody in German or talk German amongst themselves, which I found absolutely adorable. But the rest of the time, we noted that they had actually put together an extremely thought out walking tour of the area that comprised of a good 3 km. We climbed a tower of rust and saw the surrounding area of the city, went to a couple thrift shops, got some food at the Open Air Market, and saw the Munster, the biggest church in town, and the Heart of the Lutheran Reformation.

After spending a day gallivanting around and learning about the culture, it was time to go into the heart of the Black Forest itself and perform. At this point in time, word was getting around Europe about us and our travel route. So, a reporter from you June German newspaper actually caught a picture of the Drumline and myself playing our bucket solo called "recycled", and put us in the newspaper. I still have a copy of the article saved on my computer to this day. We got severely discounted (and sometimes free) food as a result of our performance, as the lady running the stands was so impressed with us that she wanted to keep us well fed.

Here we are. (I am second from the right.)

The hospitality I experienced in Germany was like none other in the world, and we still had another day to go. We've already seen and done so much, but yet, I have no idea what lied in store for me in the depths of the black forest.

The Lake Laid Blue...

In Germany, in the black forest,  there is a Scenic Lake where are all of the locals go to hang out. It is called Lake Titisee. Beside this lake, which is actually a small amusement park and Museum, there was an old dugout-style cart coaster that took us down the Mountainside. It was here that we also got to try the Black Forest Cherry Cake for the first time, one of the local favorite desserts. This chocolate torte is made with cherries, Cherry schnapps, and lots of love. My buddy Adrian ordered a slice in German, and I followed suit in English. Between this and the food stalls in the Open Air Market, it was easily some of the best food I've ever had.

Photo Credits go to Black Forest Travel.

After going down the roller coaster a couple times, brakes completely off and all, we went to another Open Air Museum. It was here that they found out that Germans grow pot in the countryside, as they had a small exhibit to show this. They also grew hibiscus, salvia, barley, corn, and a few other crops that I can't remember the names of at this moment in time. Naturally, one of my stoner friends picked off a couple of leaves from the pot plant and started munching on them. Although they would come to have no effect, it was very gutsy.

In this open air and open our Museum, we saw exhibits of blacksmith forges, traditional German houses and lifestyle, and most importantly, a teacup. This was no ordinary teacup, is it was big enough to fit 4 people into it, and sitting on the ground stationary. In the center was a wheel, which you and your friends could use to make the teacup spin around and around. We ended up getting the cup going at least 60 miles per hour, and all of us lead our heads out and it times to make it go faster. This just resulted in us screaming our lungs off and getting dizzy, and our captain almost throwing up everywhere. Regardless, it was hilarious.

Aerial view of the museum. (Credits go to Their Website.

Before getting ready to leave the countryside of Germany, we spent a little bit of time sightseeing in a small town, interacting with the locals and whatever broken languages we could speak, and enjoyed an all you can eat schnitzel noodle Buffet. This was also where our bus driver parallel parked a bus between a tight squeeze of two cars, perfectly, and in one attempt. This is where I finally got to speak with him and tell him how incredible he was. All he said was this; "you guys perform the good music for me, I'll take you wherever you need to go". Oh Jan, you're the true MVP!

Our time in Germany finally came to an end, and we laid our eyes to rest on the nunnery for the last time. We're going to be getting up early tomorrow for a long stretch of traveling - Six hours of it.

On the Turning Away

Before too long, my 11 day stint in Europe had come to an end. Many great friends were made, many great memories were recorded, plenty of culture was experienced, incredible food was consumed, and many of wonderful day hikes where had. The title of this post is inspired by British rock group Pink Floyd, with some of their song lyrics being a direct inspiration for all of my experiences in Europe. I listened to a lot of Pink Floyd and classic rock when I was in Europe (and my MP3 player actually had some German and Italian music on it as well). But to quote Pink Floyd's album “A Momentary Lapse of Reason”:

Just a world that we all must share

It's not enough just to stand and stare

Is it only a dream that there will be

No more turning away...

These lyrics speak to me louder than words, no Pink Floyd pun intended. They speak to me because I was a naive teenager living in a self-centered and Americanized world, being blind and ignorant to the rest of the world except from stories that I had heard and come to believe as fact. I now realize that the world was beautiful, not of this world worth seeing, one that we must share, and one that I want to see as much of it as possible. It was this trip to Europe that really piqued my interest as an individual with a severe case of Wanderlust. It was this single trip that influenced every single part of my life to change for the better. Is the reason why as a human being and a public speaker, I want to make people aware that there should be no turning away from the right side of love to share this beautiful world with one another.

And so, I hopped on my plane, delayed by half hour because baggage claim wasn't process right for our carry-on instruments, and after one anxiety trip of thinking I would be stuck in France forever, we board the plane home. Because of all of the clothing I had thrown out on the trip and left behind in Europe, even with souvenirs and dog, the suitcase was a good 15 kg lighter. And so, after flying into the night and coming back to a sign shining sun, it was good to be home. All 70 of us on the trip saw things that our parents had only ever dreamed of seeing. Only 13% of Americans end up using their passport, and we were in that percentile.

After surviving the trip up from Washington DC, and taking my first coach bus bathroom break, we were back in York. Our trip was over, but the memories of Europe lingered on. I couldn't look at sandwiches the same, or orange juice, or driving. Getting back to a 12-hour clock and using miles instead of kilometers was also incredibly hard. In spite of all this, I just knew one thing as I drove home... I would be back in Europe as soon as I possibly could.

A Day of our Own

The very last day that we were in Europe, we got an entire day to ourselves to relax and bumble around in France. By this point in time, we were quite familiarized with the subway system, the overall layout of Paris, and in general, how to stay alive in Europe. One thing that had me irritated, though, is the reason why we had that free day. Initially, we are supposed to be going to London via a high-speed train, but because it was like 200 extra dollars per day or something, they cut it from the tour. I thought of it this way; if we were already paying five and a half grand to go on this trip… would an extra 200 really hurt that much? So regardless, instead of taking a high-speed train to London, we spent the day walking the streets of Paris enjoying ourselves. 

To start off the day, we got breakfast at the continental breakfast at our hotel. This was our last day in Europe, and throughout the entire tour we have been told to discard old clothes that we didn't intend to take home so that we can make room for souvenirs and to overall lighten up the suitcase. So, every piece of clothing we didn't feel like taking home, my roommate and I threw into the shelving units. We also left behind some extra snacks and beverages we were enjoying on the 6 hour bus ride from Germany.

After running those light errands, we made a plan to go see as much as we could. It was my roommate Nick, and three other kids that came from my high school, that ended up being my travel group for the day. There were a total of 7 of us that came from West York, but this group of four of us was really tight. We were going to rent some bikes and bike around Paris, but as mentioned in an earlier post, France didn't seem to like MasterCard from America. Defeated, we resorted to the Metro System, where you can get a ticket from one side of the town to the other for usually right around two Euros. We had grown quite fond of it, as we had been using the Metro System the entire time in Paris, as we only had our bus driver for a week before he had to return home to the Czech Republic.

A view from the bridge.

We first decided to check out some of the Art District buildings. We saw a little bit of them but didn't actually get a chance to go into any of them. One of them was having a huge Flea Market at the time, and there were plenty of things to see inside the building. We easily walked 5 miles that day, popping from one side of town to the other, taking as many pictures as possible.

And then, I was inspired. My roommate and I started whistling and singing in acapella version of “Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day”. I was inspired, because I was still single, still not talking to any girls, and wandering lost in the streets of Europe trying to find myself. And while singing that song, we definitely did find ourselves. We had some deep conversations about girls that we liked, issues we were facing coming ahead, and many other things. What a cathartic way to spend your time wandering the streets of Europe. Needless to say, the girl that my roommate liked back then, he's now been dating for over 5 years.

Much as we did in Italy and Switzerland before us, we went to restaurant in night that had live entertainment from the vocals in the style of their traditional folk music. Just when I thought accordions and Italian lyrics were cute, and I thought that the Swiss Alp horns were incredible, then we got to hear a French couple sing and play accordion. It was very schmaltzy and beautiful. After wandering through nearly every part of Paris and getting close up pictures of the Arc de Triumph and Eiffel Tower, we called it a day.

A perfect ending to a perfect day: a pontoon ride.

Although I really wish to have gone to London for a day, it was still quite incredible to be able to experience everything that I did in the past 10 days of my life. And, to be continued…

The City of Blinding Lights

The City of Blinding Lights

After spending quite some time enjoying all of Europe, we were going back to where we once landed to experience their culture, France. Upon arrival, we were greeted by super strong smelling toilets, not so smiling locals, and a lot of wind turbines. Although I didn't drink coffee at this point of time, and nor will I ever smoke cigarettes, those two Aromas strongly filled the air mostly everywhere in the city limits.

The Art District.

One thing that was fairly interesting to watch year was the traffic. If it were a complete stop in public, and you were riding on a moped, you go directly between the two rows of cars and not care. It was incredible. Also there driving was a lot better than it was in the south. And then the Germans I met drove with such surgical precision that it could be painful sometimes.

In France, they have a system called the rent a bike. People will rent a bike out to take it somewhere, usually work, and then they will lock it up at another Kiosk for somebody else to rent out. The entire time we were in France, my buddy and roommate Nick had a credit card that didn't want to work on him. The same followed suit for me as well. Both of us tried our MasterCards, to no avail. And so, one of the locals had to come to help us out at this kiosk. Nothing eventful really happened other than us both embarrassing ourselves and continuing onwards on foot.

Rent a Bike. Or a horse?

The most noticeable difference about Paris from the rest of the places we had been in Europe, is that smokers were literally everywhere. There was a definite layer of smog covering most of the city, and much more traffic than everywhere else we had been as well. To be honest, Paris wasn't quite what it was cracked up to be. Then again, I was never one for cute little fantasies anyhow. There were also several couples seriously making out with each other on benches, people shouting across the street to one another, and people cutting in and out of lines. But the most notable difference of all was their McDonalds. We witnessed two different things inside of that McDonald's, unisex bathroom and Portion Control. The same cost for a massive burger from McDonald's in the states about a quarter of the result, if less fries and burger than usual. In reference to the bathrooms, there were two doors for men and women's restrooms, and they both went to the same room with urinals and stalls. This freaked out some of the girls that were trying to use the bathroom, as there were guys standing and taking a leak. Of course, they promised that they weren't trying to catch a peek or anything.

Cheese!

We went to the Art District then saw some beautiful scenery, we went into the roof and saw the Mona Lisa and other eclectic artwork, we took a tour around the base of the Eiffel Tower, and we were introduced to the Metro System so that we knew how to get around in Europe. We went on a boat tour and saw the Lock Bridge, which up until the recent lock for moving act had literally thousands of locks on it. And most importantly, we gave our fourth and final performance in Luxembourg Gardens. This is where we played our bucket drumming piece once, broke our buckets, and then were asked for an encore from the audience, and needed to play with our broken sticks and buckets. Needless to say, France proved to be very interesting.

Diving Into the Black Forest

For the next stop in our travels, we would be going to the black forest of Germany (Kirchzarten), a beautiful area that reminds me much of Pennsylvania, and lies just a couple miles from Freiburg. We ran to a couple of locals in our first gas station stop that only spoke German, and at this point in time, I only knew how to say thank you and excuse me and that was about it. But, the scenery reminded me much of my home in Pennsylvania, as did the weather, and the roads. What was markedly different however, were the people of Germany.

Most Germans come off as very serious to Americans; however, they also have a bland sense of humor that is only described as adorable. On the inside, there are some of the easiest people to get along with that I've ever met. And, they are also pretty good judge of character. How I knew for sure, was the fact that a guy at a hot dog stand looked at me and said that I look like the kind of guy who likes caramelized onions on my bratwurst. How could he be more correct?

For the next hotel we stayed at, half of the tour group stayed and Lionheart hotel, and the other half, my half, stayed at a nunnery on top of a mountain with a beautiful view of some small quaint town in the meadows below. The first night we were there, my friend decided to screw with the cows, almost getting gored in the process. Not to mention the giant cow bells around their necks, this cows meant business. In the convent itself though, quiet hours where generally 9 p.m. until 7 a.m., with noble silence to be observed all weekend long. Many good games of Frisbee were played here, and I hiking just outside the convent was incredible as well.

It was a two hour drive to get to our location from the center of Switzerland, but every moment of the drive was just as incredible as the last. But at this point of the trip, we have learned to develop bladders of steel so that we could tolerate long hours of road-tripping without bathroom breaks. After all, our Czech bus driver was always on a mission, and his mission was us.

And so, we on packed our bags and got ready for the days ahead, in which we would be covering a lot of ground. Stay tuned for more!

Into The Alps

After spending three days in the stifling hot Italy, we ventured on wards into the Alps. Specifically, we landed in Lucerne, Switzerland. This landlocked country actually lies outside of the European Union, their currency being Swiss Francs. They have four official languages, and most locals speak at least three or four languages. These languages are Italian, French, German, and Romansh. English is thrown in the mix there somewhere, and the Locale are always very fortunate to be able to practice their foreign language skills. If there's any one place I want to go back to and dedicate more time to in the future, it is definitely Switzerland.

A view from the bus of Lucerne.

Unabashed and unaware, I was told to put on Long clothing before getting on the bus for Switzerland. I was uncertain as to why they told me this, as it was about 38 degrees Celsius when we got on the bus and Italy. It made sense to me exactly why once we stepped off the bus in Lucerne outside the Swiss Alps, and the temperature was about 2 degrees Celsius. I really wish I had brought gloves at this part of the trip. It was intensely cold. No doubt it was worth it, but surprisingly cold. Granted, where you at were also at a rest stop at the bottom of the Swiss Alps, where temperature is always markedly different from the rest of the country.

As we took the trolley to the top of Mount Pilatus, the tallest alp, I noticed some pain in my left side. I knew that my appendix was not over there, but it was still very worrying. Needless to say, one of our band moms (who was acting as the nurse for the trip) packed some ibuprofen, and she hooked me up. Some fresh Mountain Air from the Alps, some good hiking and cold weather, and a half hour wait, and the pain subsided and I was good to go.

The Mountain we would summit.

To this day, Mount Pilatus has to be my favorite location I've ever taken a Facebook profile picture at, which I have shown here, and it also has to be part of my favorite country I've ever visited. Although we only spent a day and a half in Lucerne, it was probably my favorite part of the visit. The people we met at the tourist stop alone were so friendly and hospitable that it really made up for the stoic attitudes of Italy. I went to the gift shop on top of the mountain after exploring the caves nearby, deciding to buy a Swatch while in Switzerland. All of them were at least $100, except for one that was about 20 and replicable at Walmart for probably $5. I talked to the lady, who did not know the word for credit card, and she called it plastic money. We both started laughing because we knew this was the incorrect term, but it still worked. She was talking to me about where I was from, why I've come to Italy and Switzerland, and what I thought of her country so far. I returned the favor to her, and she was just so happy to see an American take the time out of their day to chat with her.

My most favorite profile picture of all time: On top of Pilatus.

We visited the historical bridge in the center of Lucerne next, the one that burned down in the 60s and was rebuilt. The memorial plaques told stories worth a thousand words, although the descriptions were in every language except for English. At this point in time, my language skills were developed just enough that I could figure out most of what they were telling me in German, just for context clues. I would utilize this skill for the rest of my life. It also helped when communicating with locals who didn't speak much English, as I clearly didn't speak much of their languages either.

After touring the quaint town of Lucerne, some of the historical sites including their big Fountain and their Jelly Bean roof houses, we went to a fondue restaurant. Just like the locals by the church who operated small farming stalls, or the people we passed on the street getting on to the completely renewable-energy-based Electric tramline, the people in the restaurant who served us we're beautiful human beings inside and out. They really wanted us to feel at home and comfortable, and went out of their way to do so. One lady on the street waved me over to her stand to talk, browse her wares, and gave me free samples without thinking twice.

Nowhere in America can I find attitudes even vaguely similar to the ones of Switzerland. They are truly unique kind of people. After we sat down for dinner, we were entertained by singing Viking ladies, a quartet playing songs on alphorns, and a yodeling and chugging contest, of which I was invited along to. They asked for anybody who knew how to sing in the crowd, and the people at my table heard me murmur that I could sing and raise my hand for me. So naturally, as with the four other Americans there, I was taught how to yodel from a proper Swiss alp yodeler. Directly after simultaneously yodeling well and embarrassing myself, came the chugging contest. They gave us beer, which would be legal at the age of 16, but because it was a school affiliated trip, I had to take the non-alcoholic version of lemonade. There was one guy there that once prompted to start chugging, crushed his entire flagon in maybe two seconds. It was quite an impressive feat. Defeated, I returned to my seat with my lemonade.

Our entertainment for the night!

After a good night's rest and more sightseeing in Lucerne, we packed our bags and headed for the black forest of Germany. Switzerland is a country that I will not soon forget, and one that I long to visit again. Unfortunately, if you like me are considering expatriation, it is extremely hard to get permission to work and live in Switzerland if you are not from the surrounding six countries. You're also required to learn one of the official languages and make an attempt at learning the others. So although moving there might not be in my foreseeable future, I will be visiting sometime soon. With temperatures similar to home, but twice as many rolling mountainsides covered in fog and mist, it really is a landlocked Paradise.

Northern Italy and the Pope

Although Rome was very fascinating, there was still much more to see in Italy. The next part of my Europe trip landed us in the Vatican City, going through their security check process, avoiding the panhandlers and Gypsies, and seeing everything that this beautiful country has to offer. Because of its importance in the world, it is actually considered its own little country, which I find adorable. We didn't have enough time to visit the Sistine Chapel and see the wonderful works of Michelangelo, but we did get to go in and see the ornate Chapel at the Vatican, to see the coffin that contains one of the oldest Pope's, and admire the church organ. The pope himself was not there at the time, unfortunately, but it was still pretty cool to see how security works in a foreign country regarding the most important Catholic location in the world.

After this, we were in Florence, scouting out the house of Michelangelo and finding the house of Leonardo DaVinci. We saw the big chapels, interacted with locals, tried speaking Italian (but got answered by in English), and enjoyed our mandatory serving of gelato. As folklore has it, you are only happy and Italy if you have at least three servings of gelato every day. There were little pop-up kiosks and stands everywhere selling the finest traditional Italian recipes of gelato. In Florence, there were so many different kinds of people, and it was quite a marvel to say the least.

In the mid-afternoon, after some sightseeing, we had some free time to wander around. I saw the old lucky bull in the Town Plaza that my uncle took a picture next to 30 years prior when he was studying nephrology in Italy. I saw Trevi Fountain. And, I saw people who I thought were an unlikely fit. Namely, I met a man speaking perfect Italian, who invited me to sit and talk for a while, and then telling me that he originated from Hartford Connecticut. His business partner, who also helps run the little jewelry stand they owned, was from Salem, Massachusetts. He moved to Italy right after college. Quite inspiring.

After this day, we traveled to Baveno, a district of Italy in the north, near Genova. Much to my surprise, there is a huge population of Spanish people here. And one point in time, I actually acted as a translator for the group, being one of maybe three people that spoke Spanish in my tour group. A lady didn't speak any English and was asking us when are concert started, and I was able to help her out. Exuberant, she kissed me on the cheek gave me a hug and promised to be back later. The rest of the kids looked at me with mouths agape, impressed at my prowess with foreign language.

The climate in Baveno was mild compared to Florence and Rome, but still rather hot. Influences from other part of Europe were starting to become noticeable and prominent, something I didn’t realize until I was in other places later. The people were also nicer to tourists there, as I met some resistance from the locals in the south. Since Baveno is an area that isn't often heavily populated by tourists, almost everyone was happy to see us. This was also the location of our second performance.

In this part of our journey, it became apparent that music really is the universal language. There were many people in the crowd that only spoke Italian or Spanish, but everybody had the same amount of enjoyment out of our “John Philip Sousa March”, or “Air for Band”, or “West Side Story” compilation, and our percussion solo that featured buckets. Specifically, gardening buckets. It was also two shows in and we already had people breaking their first buckets. They just don't make them the same as they do in America. More to come on that later.

If there's any part of Italy I would encourage people to visit, the culture and history of Northern Italy is so profound and rich. If I ever went back to Italy, I would be visiting there. However, I would still be encouraging anyone who goes not to drive, as Italians tend to just put their car wherever they feel like it on the road and try not to hit things occasionally. Regardless of this, Italy is very quaint and cute, and worth a visit for anyone.

Buongiorno, Italia!

When I was a Junior in high school, I was invited to go on a trip to Europe with youth music abroad. At this point in time, I was balancing trying to figure out College, lots of extracurricular activities, honors choir, finishing my Eagle Scout project, finishing my graduation project, and just right out not having money, so I wasn't sure how I was going to accomplish this feat. We were able to get discounted price due to our financial situation, from the original price of five and a half thousand dollars, but it still seemed like so much.

Somehow in some way, however, my angel on Earth and shining star, my mother, pulled together the funds, and in the third week of June, 2012, I was on my way to the international airport in DC with a full suitcase of toss away clothes and a carry-on full of odds and ends, and shortly after the packing process, I was sprinting to our plane, a Boeing 747. Here, I would sit for the next 8 hours watching The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and some movie with Jim Carrey in it. Before long, we landed in Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, France.

My first glimpse of European airplane food

Now, at this point in the journey, remember that I am with a night owl and a shut-in, with no real language experience other than 4 years of Spanish. But before I knew it, I was in France, at 6:40 in the morning, waiting for an air taxi to take us to the beautiful city of Rome. I knew about five words of Italian, did not have proper Italian attire at all, and was notably culture shocked as soon as I touched down in Rome.

This was my first time being in a foreign country, and how interesting it was. To see the speed limit signs in kilometers, the traffic lights on the side of the road instead of above the road, seeing every sign in Italian instead of English, seeing the lackluster driving skills of the Italian populist, and of course, seeing the locals dressed up in long dark clothing even though it was 40 degrees celsius outside. I can deal with the 24 hour clock format, but I definitely came across as American when I stepped out of the bus in shorts and immediately proceeded to buy a 2 liter bottle of water.

As jetlagged as we were, we were instructed to stay awake or else we would feel worse the next day. No napping allowed. We went to a private beach and swam in the Mediterranean Sea, where I spoke Spanish and broken Italian to some locals. I got my first Italian lesson from a store owner, who was very happy to see a tourist attempting to speak the local language. We enjoyed the waters and the hot Sands for several hours, before stopping in Rome to see the Colosseum and a few huge churches. This would be the first of many crazy and notable experiences on this day.

Hanging out with the locals! (Once upon a time, I had a goatee.)

At night, the hotel hosts put on a huge buffet for us, happy to see so many people occupying their space. They gave us discounts on everything, served us some of the best buffet food I've ever had, came by the tables and talked to all of us, and made our first night one to remember. Dinner was also later, as the culture in Italy is to have dinner later at night. We had dinner around 2100, and then played a few simple games as a tour group together before departing to our rooms and getting the best night's sleep most of us have ever seen.

Sunshine Land

The first time I went to Florida was lackluster. It was also the first time I was ever on a plane by myself and in the airport 11, at the age of 14. Let me break that down for you real quick.

It was the summer of going into high school, and also the summer of my first heartbreak. As I was recovering from that, I was to go down to Florida and spend some time with my rambunctious going into high school, and also the summer of my first heartbreak. As I was recovering from that, I was to go down to Florida and spend some time with my rambunctious 6 year old cousin. When we got down there and got situated at the hotel, we went to visit my aunt who lives 10 minutes outside of Universal Studios. I loved spending time with her, but still, being away from my parents and being with a crazy unkempt six-year-old really harsh my mellow. I had serious separation anxiety and “Mommy boy” syndrome up until I was about 15. So two days in, after sweating to death at SeaWorld, I decided it was time to go home and be with my parents and my computer in my artificially chilled air. Although this trip was unsuccessful, I knew the next time I went my mother would be coming along. And that's exactly what happened.

About half a year after my father passed, my mom used the little savings we had to take her and my aunt and myself down to Orlando to stay with my aunt for a week and a half. My mom wanted to sit back and relax and hang out with the family, and considering as to how I have five or six cousins that still live in Orlando, that's exactly what we did. However, for my Wanderlust-ed aunt and myself, this wasn't enough for us. She and I found ourselves running around to wherever was physically and financially possible. Our expeditions let us all over Florida, including a trip to Key West and to Universal Studios, where I ended up putting the park on lockdown. I have to explain that one and further detail.

When we got to Universal Studios, we immediately headed for the new Harry Potter World. My mother held onto my cell phone as I rode their dueling dragons’ roller coaster, as I did not want it to fall out of my pocket on the ride. She sat on a bench and waited for me, but when I got off of the roller coaster, the crowds were so thick that I couldn't see her anywhere. I wandered around trying to find her, before eventually talking to one of the security staff who were conveniently dressed as Hogwarts prefects. I told one of them that I had misplaced my mother, and since I was 16, they immediately panicked and put the park on lockdown until they had a security came with his phone that can call out of state. I made a phone call to my mom, and we were reunited in overtime, but not before creating a big scene. I knew that if all else failed, I would go out to my aunt in the parking lot, and if I couldn't find her, I would walk home, as it wasn't that far. So after our reunion, we walked around the park, saw some things, drank some butter beer, and called it a day.

Somewhere in Boca Raton...

My cousin John took me to a concert at Hard Rock Live later that week at Universal Studios, and we saw Hellyeah. It ended up being my first really heavy concert, and even though the tickets were purchased on the way home, it only cost like 20 bucks per person. It was a dirt cheap way to have fun. We also went out to eat with family and had a small party to celebrate our coming to Florida. At the end of the trip, we went to Key West for the first time.

Halfway between here and Key West, we met up with a friend I had met online who had lived in Boca Raton. She was three years older than me, and we connected online via a Pink Floyd music video’s comment section on YouTube. This was back when YouTube users could still direct message one another, and as it turns out, it would lead to a lifelong friendship. Though my mother was leery of having me meet someone who very well could have been a catfish, I put her on speaker to prove that she was real, and then, we met up for two hours at a local mall. There is hope for online dating and friendships after all!

Key West at Sunset.

The first time I went to Key West, I sat in the back of a car for 8 hours playing Pokémon and waiting to arrive. We drove straight down from Orlando, stopping at a hotel in Miami at night to recharge our batteries after a long day. I got to see the sunset disappear into Mallory Square, visit Duval Street, see Ernest Hemingway's house and resting place, enjoy key lime pie in the Florida Keys, eat some of the local food, go snorkeling and meet a cute local girl, and take a picture next to the southernmost point in the United States. All in all, it was a very successful trip to one of the most expensive areas in the United States. Even if I don’t bode well with warm weather, I’ll be back one day for a hike or two.

Learning to Fly

So, remember how in a previous blog post I mentioned that my parents had two honeymoons? And that one of them was to St. Thomas? Well, little did I know, but my father had been saving a lot of money in secrecy for the past 12 years after that date. He wanted to go back to the Caribbean more than anything, and started to my mother. I, on the other hand, was an awkward 13 year old shut-in who didn't care much about anything at all. So I was pretty cool with whatever happened. In fact, up until I was 15 or so, I actually used to be so bad with travel that my parents were afraid to send me more than 20 minutes away from the house.

But in April of 2007, I learned how to fly. More importantly, I got my first taste of the lovely headache that can be airport security. Otherwise, I was acutely unaware of the world around me. Just how massive it is, just how incredible it is to be on a plane knowing that you're going somewhere new. Until one day, I was sitting on my first plane ride ever to North Carolina and then onwards to St Thomas in the United States Virgin Islands.

A few of many great photos taken in St. Thomas.

I remember getting up around 5 in the morning, white early than I am used to, as our plane was to depart around 9 from BWI airport in Baltimore. We got our suitcases packed, organized a loose schedule for the trip, and headed for the plane. At this stage of my life, I was battling an issue with depression, as I didn't fit in with any of my classmates back then. I was the nerdy outcasts looking for an escape, and I figured that this could very well be a wonderful Escape.

I put a Pink Floyd mix CD on my Casio CD player as the plane hit the runway, remembering to listen 1st to learning to fly off of a momentary lapse of reason. That song inspired me more than words could compare, filling me with an eternal sense of bliss every time I listen to the song to this day. Are playing taxi Off The Runway, speeds incomprehensible to any human on land, and bellowed towards this guy. I was really Learning to Fly. I was learning how free it meant to be when you are in a metal chassis several thousand miles off the grounds, departing at speeds unknown for something unknown. What a great gift, what a wonderful mystery and an exuberating feeling!

Although mostly independent, the US Virgin Islands have been part of United States for several decades. What is most interesting about them is that they drive on the left side of the road, but they drive standard American cars which are meant for right side driving. Lots of left-turn accidents have happened in the past, but anybody on St. Thomas takes a traffic accident with a serious grain of salt. Fortunately, we were not victims of any accident.

As far as weather goes, it was pretty mild all over the island. When it rains however, it would literally rain on one side of the street but not the other. We went on a submarine tour our first day, experiencing the wildlife underneath the sea in St Thomas. We stayed at Sapphire Beach, a nice Oceanside Resort, and spent a lot of time going to the bar for drinks, and for me a virgin daiquiri or martini, practicing for snorkeling, actually going snorkeling and seeing cool but scary stuff, swimming, or just in general hanging out. There were a lot of very cute Beach bods as well from what I remember.

Since the trip was literally a decade ago from the time of writing this, I only remember bits and pieces of what all transpired. I remember going snorkeling on a snorkeling tour and seeing a barracuda, as well as parasailing for the first time in my entire life. What a freaky feeling to be up in the air attached to a rope following a small little boat. I also remember playing steel drum at a local restaurant called the Agave Terrace, wishing that the street Carnival hadn't finished up the week before we got there, and going to the Skylift that crests a scenic view of the island. I also got to experience my first time (and hardcore blushing all around) as well as facilitate dialogue with the female kind for the first actual time in my life, regardless of their inhibitory status.

I also went parasailing!

As you can plainly here and imagine, there was a lot to see and do on this trip. There were plenty of geographical sites to be found, plenty of Memoirs, dedications, statues, and memorials, a lot of restaurants, and a lot of expensive food. There was a local who made a trophy for us out of coconut (which we let him keep because of customs). My dad got the message because he wanted to sit and talk with the guy as he works, and get to understand a bit about his life and culture. All in all, despite geographical location, life in St Thomas isn't too entirely different from life in the states. Although the entire population is right around as tiny as York is now, they're still quite mighty.

Like Grandparent, Like Grandchild

Although my father and mother imparted wisdom about their travels to me, the individuals the most inspired me to become a Wanderlust travel junkie are my grandparents. They hand spent almost their entire lives in York, Pennsylvania, but did indeed escape from its maw at one point to see the world. Both of them graduated from schools in the area, my grandfather from the Catholic school and my grandmother from the city school. They got married shortly after graduation, at which point my grandfather was in the Air Force and on his way to becoming one of their head cryptologist. This was during the time of the peace riots and protests, and he also happens to be in Birmingham, Alabama. When things got too crazy, and safety was becoming endangered, they left and went to Fairbanks, Alaska. Although their honeymoon was short, they more than made up for it by being in Fairbanks.

In Fairbanks, Alaska, there really is no such thing as a light and day cycle for most of the year. And the summer, the Sun never sets. In winter, the Sun never rises. The weather is usually pretty frigid, and as such, the only people that would walk the streets at night or to and from work would be government officials and my grandfather. Not even the locals there to face the chilling Arctic winds that sometimes reached 30°F below 0. He saw the Northern Lights more times than he can count on his hands, lived in an igloo for a month, met with the locals in the Alaskan Bush People (literally), and ate the food of the locals, which included a lot of potatoes and fish. And yes, he even went dog sledding once or twice.

To this day, my grandparents continue to tell me all some stories about their travels. After having their 5 children, they didn't get to see her do a whole lot, but when they did have enough money scraped together to get away, they took full advantage of it. A lot of family day trips around the area were had, and once or twice, they even got to see things in a different state. Thanks to my grandparents, I have been inspired to see the things that they have done and the places they have gone.

And so, within budgetary constraints, that is my goal. I want to see and do as much as I can, in the spirit of the locale. And I will do this as long and as often as I am possibly able to. I want to get to my grandparents age and have a lot of stories to tell. Let's make it happen.

Nuclear Fission

A once happy family of three.

Before going into the content of the post, let me describe what the title means. In family studies in Psychology, we call the building blocks of a traditional family a nuclear family. This includes a maternal figure, a paternal figure, and a child. This is the building block, the nucleotide, the atom of familial structure. When an atom splits in a chemical sense, it is called nuclear fission. I have chosen the title of this post due to my family background, which I will now explain.

In the beginning, I was a happy accident. My mother was deemed unfair told by several doctors, and my father never planned on having children after his first marriage had failed. However, into the world I came, exactly a week after my dad's birthday and exactly a week before Halloween. My parents went on two honeymoons; one to Saint Thomas, and one to Cancun, Mexico. I was six months old when they decided they would marry and try the whole marriage thing again, mostly for the sake of me. We never had a whole lot of money, but what spare money we had, we enjoyed by traveling to amusement parks and small things within an hour or two drive.

My father, unfortunately, was an alcoholic. He didn't care very much about his health, and an ultimately did him in. He developed pancreatic cancer and passed away when I was 15, leaving behind many unanswered questions, and a lifetime of opportunities unexplored. My mother herself was a survivor of breast cancer, and something that she never took for granted. In fact, it was through her illness that we discovered my father's illness, and he taught me some of my greatest life lessons during our final chat before he went on hospice.

I still remember the conversation like it was yesterday. I was young and naive, so I didn't realize that he was getting ready to say goodbye to this lifetime. You see, at the Cancer Center in Philadelphia, there is a pineapple statue in the center of a fountain. This pineapple is said to bring joy peace, courage, hope, and strength to patients and their families. It was at this Fountain, where I had wheeled my dad in his wheelchair, that he gave me some of life's greatest lessons.

It was here that my dad taught me that he had a list of things that he never got to do with us, or for himself. It was here that he told me to go out and see the world and do whatever I could to make him and Mom proud. And he also told me that I have one short lifetime, so I better take care of my mom the best that I know how. I didn't think much of the conversation at the time, but it's time he wrote it on words, I started to understand more and more what he was actually saying.

Fast forward to present day, and it's been about eight years since the family split after his passing. I still do whatever I can to see the good in everything, to take care of this world around me, and to see as much of it as I possibly can. And I know I won't stop until my biological clock runs out. I will do everything that I can to keep the family together and going strong, while using my father's stories as fuel for the fire.

In The Beginning

On top of Mt. Pilatus, Switzerland.

Greetings, world. My name is Lynn Gable, and welcome to my blog. In this first post, I'm going to discuss a bit about myself, things that I've seen and done, and what I hope for people to get out of this blog.

At the time of writing this post, I was 23 years young and situated in the electronic town of York, Pennsylvania. It is the first capital of the United States, home of the oldest fair in the United States, and a place for families and Drifters to find their place alike. Not much ever happens here, though, so from the age of about 20 years old and on, I've done everything I can to see what lies beyond its city limits. Although I chose to study health care in college, my biggest passion has always been writing, reading, creating music, and discovering culture. And so, I started writing as a creative outlet to present information to the world.

Some may say that in the beginning, there was light. I say that in the beginning, there was millions upon millions of unexplored galaxy to travel. Whatever Cosmic being was around that time definitely had a field day exploring all of the things that would come to be in the billions of years to come. It's still crazy to think that after all of this time, all the events that led to the formation and cultivation of our planet, that genus homo has arisen and somehow claimed its place at the top of Earth's food chain. It's even funnier to think of how nomadic homo sapiens and other members of genus homo used to be, and now people prefer to sit still in one place and be complacent.

The aim, purpose, and mission statement behind my blog are all pretty synonymous within themselves. I want to inspire others to see this world for what it is, get out there and witness reality with your own eyes, encourage personal and cultural growth from within, and show people that there is so much to see and do even in your own backyard. Some may argue that the grass is not greener on the other side, but those individuals clearly haven't seen the grass that grows on different continents. As well as other forms of life, plants, foliage, flora and fauna, Etc.

As I blog, I'm going to cover travel, culture, places that have inspired me, things that inspire me to be who I am, places I've gone hiking, places I've traveled to, and some of the wonderful sights and sounds I've been blessed enough to see. Stay tuned for more!