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Back in the USA

And now, the exciting conclusion of my European adventure.

On Thursday night, Andy, George, and I went to see the West End production of Chicago. I had no idea that we were right in the West End with theaters scattered all over the place, but the theater was just a short walk away (with a gelato shop in between). The show starred Michelle Williams of Destiny’s Child, but I obviously wouldn’t have known that if George hadn’t told me. I had never seen the movie, but I enjoyed the show. The orchestra was on the stage, and the conductor interacted with the characters, which I thought was pretty clever. The songs were catchy too.

After the show, for our last dinner in Europe, we went to an Indian restaurant called Tandoori Nights (which a Google search reveals is actually a common name??). Well, it wasn’t George’s last dinner in Europe, but it was mine and Andy’s. After that, we returned to George’s dorm room on Drury Lane (yes, the Drury Lane on which the fabled Muffin Man is said to live). I was ready to go to bed in anticipation of a long day.

On Friday morning, Andy and I got our things together, thanked George for his hospitality, and made our way to the airport. We took the Gatwick Express, the same train we had taken from the airport two months ago. Even though it was pretty expensive, it was fast and direct. And we didn’t have very much time to look into other options.

At Gatwick, Mark was waiting for me, just as I’d hoped. My cousins in Croatia had given me a bottle of liquor as a gift, so I was going to give it to 21-year-old Mark so he could take it into the country (I mean, as a gift for him to keep). He had been waiting there for a while, but I’m glad he was patient. Otherwise, I think I was just going to chuck the bottle.

With the alcohol out of the way, I wasn’t too concerned about the other things I had to bring into the country: a bottle of olive oil, which was also from my cousins, and some stroopwafels that I had bought from a vending machine in Amsterdam two days before. I had been infatuated with the sweet treats ever since my friend Kevin brought some home from the Netherlands a few years ago. I had wanted to pick some up for myself and everybody back home, but while I was in Amsterdam I wasn’t in the mood to seek them out. Luckily, I happened to spot some in a vending machine right before I left for London.

We got through everything relatively easily (we didn’t even have to take our shoes off for security, which apparently might have been a mistake) and soon found ourselves waiting in the terminal for our flight back to the USA. The three of us were worried that Dan wouldn’t show; he and Mark had split up back in Switzerland and weren’t staying in the same hostel in London. But Dan did arrive, so the four of us had some time to recount our individual adventures.

Soon, it came time to board the plane, which I would not have been looking forward to at all if it hadn’t meant I’d be going home. The plane took off about 40 minutes late, and I managed to keep myself entertained by watching movies (I Love You, Man and The Boat That Rocked) and imagining how great it would be to be home.

Somehow, the plane landed in Orlando a few minutes early. According to my watch, it was getting close to midnight, but the sun had never gone down during the flight. I imagined that the jetlag would be harder to get used to this time because it wouldn’t be as simple as skipping a night and then sleeping a lot the next night. But jetlag or no jetlag, I was glad to be back.

Of course, we had to go through customs and all that first. I got quizzed about my trip to prove I wasn’t a terrorist. The fact that I had been gone for so long and had visited so many countries and brought back food was apparently too much for Customs and Border Patrol to let slip by. But I showed them I was legit, and that’s when I parted ways with Andy, Dan, and Mark. I had a working cell phone for the first time in two months, so I called my parents to let them know I was there.

They were glad to see me; I was glad to see them. I was also very tired. They drove me home, but we stopped for dinner along the way at the Outback Steakhouse in Vero Beach. It was right about there that I realized how great it was to be back in my own country: in a familiar place with familiar food. Those who are about to call me an ugly American should keep reading.

My sister was there when we got home. I showed everybody the stone souvenirs I had brought back from Croatia, as well as the olive oil, the stroopwafels, and some trinkets from Italy. Then I went to bed. Of course, it was not only wonderful and amazing to be back home with my family, but it was also awesome to be back in my own bed after two months of traveling.

Since then, I’ve gotten to see some family and friends. I spent Sunday night at TJ’s with Nick and some other friends. It was an overnight thing, though, which I was glad about. I think going to bed at 04:00 and waking up at 12:00 helped get rid of my jet lag. I’m still getting tired sort of early and waking up sort of early, though. Last night, I went to a family dinner with some relatives I don’t see very often. They had lots of questions about the trip, and apparently many of them have been reading this blog too. Between spending time with family and friends, I’ve been relaxing as I typically would during the summer. I’ve also been working online.

Europe ’09 by the numbers:

• Days: 67 (May 26 – July 31, 2009)
• Countries visited: 14 (United Kingdom, France, Spain, Monaco, Italy, Vatican City, Slovenia, Croatia, Austria, Slovakia, Czech Republic, Germany, Netherlands, Belgium)
• Places I slept: 21
• Times I stayed with family members: 2 (Andy’s relatives both times)
• Times I stayed with friends: 3
• Times I stayed in hostels: 2
• Times I stayed in hotels: 3
• Times I stayed with Esperantists or at Esperanto events: 12
• Sleepless nights on trains: 3
• Sleepless half-nights on planes: 1
• Days I traveled without Andy: 17 (25%!)
• Number of currencies I ended up with: 8 (pounds sterling, euros, Croatian kunas, Slovak korunas, Russian rubles, Belorussian rubles, Czech korunas, Hungarian forints)
• Number of times I mentioned to people that I collected coins and banknotes: 3
• Photos taken, December 25, 2002 – May 24, 2009: 4,178
• Photos taken, May 26 – July 31, 2009: 4,002
• Total size of photos: 6.5 GB
• Most photos taken in one day: 411 (June 28, in Rome)
• Videos recorded: 13
• Total size of videos: 248 MB
• Average length of videos: 0:14

So, boring statistics aside, what are we to learn from this trip? I was hoping that going for a two-month adventure would leave me feeling more adventurous. It has, but not for the reason I thought. It was Andy who showed me that you can’t be uptight about everything. I can’t count the number of times he said, “Let’s do it; the worst that could happen is that they yell at us.” And you know, we didn’t get yelled at very much. It was an eye-opener.

Before I left for the trip, people had told me a bit about Europeans, but you really need to go to Europe to understand them. The impression I got everywhere was that they’re content with having less than Americans. They’re fine with their small cars and their tiny apartments, and they don’t see why they should have dryers when they already have clotheslines and the sun. The US has long been the land of plenty, and that has shaped who we are as Americans; Europeans, living on a continent that has been ravaged by war and political strife, are more down-to-earth.

Things are different there, but I wouldn’t say that Europe is, in general, better or worse than America. It’s just different. Europeans like their water gassy and their milk creamy. They love soccer and the 24-hour clock. Those are things that I don’t think I could get used to (except for the 24-hour clock, which I’ve always been a fan of and have now decided to use in writing). In the US, we may have crappy schools, overfilled prisons, and drug laws that don’t work, but that doesn’t mean that our country isn’t great. If nothing else, it’s great because we are and always have been filled with potential. The American Dream and all that stuff. It’s all here.

Some people have asked me if I would live in Europe. Everything I have and everything I know is here in the US, so answer is obvious. But still, I’m glad to have had the trip of a lifetime, and if I could do it all again, I would. Europe ’09 taught me more about the world than any book could; the stories I have really are priceless. Every day, I learned something new and did something that I might never do again. So, sometimes the only way to really learn is to be adventurous. After all, the worst that could happen is that they yell at you.