Takeoff | Travel Journal

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issue no. 1

summer 2016

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takeoff



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takeoff

a travel journal design, photography and thoughts by devon mcgowan


trier 06

luxembourg city 14 florence I 33

oblenz 28 cologne 47

vienna 77

salzburg 86

morocco 109

ern 132

nuremburg 5

seville 116

stuttgart 141

rom

venice 164 ireland 173 arlo


metz 17

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berlin 23

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saarburg & mettlach 42

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prague 59 munich 95

faro 100

london & brighton 127

me 148

florence II 159

on 182 france & monaco 184


oblenz 28

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preface This journal follows a chronological series of trips, through fifteen countries and thirtyeight cities, I took along with fellow students during my semester studying abroad in Germany at the Fachhochschule Trier.

ern 132


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germany //

trier The place we arrived scared and jetlagged that eventually became home. Trier played a wonderful host for our semester in Europe. A small, bustling city that left us with great friends and wonderful memories.

“Home is always the impossible subject, multilayered and maddening.�

Paul Theroux


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Trier is a city of about 100,000 in western Germany, close to the border and Luxembourg City. It is situated along the Mosel river and was founded by the Romans. An ancient amphitheater, roman baths, bridges from the 2nd century AD and the iconic Porta Nigra are visible remnants of the early history of Augusta Treverorum– the Roman name for Trier. The Trier I experienced surpassed any expectations I could have had before arriving. We, my six fellow University of Kansas students studying together, were incredibly lucky with the friends we made, the professors we studied under and city we got to take advantage of. Everything was in walking distance, the city was charming, nightlife was always fun and there were many students living there to befriend and learn from. When I arrived I was homesick and couldn’t imagine how much I would grow to love Trier. It will always have a special place in my heart.

Inside the Dom, St. Peter’s Cathedral


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A hike around the Mosel

Fachhochschule Trier Design building and my expressively excited roommate Liz

A nice afternoon next to the Mosel


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Zurlabener Ufer restaurant area next to the Mosel



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We spent an unexpected morning in Luxembourg after we missed our train and had time to spend there


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View of the city from a walking path near the bridge



19 // france

metz Our first daytrip, a group of ten exchange students boarded an early morning bus to cross the French border and wander around a new city.

“How often I found where I should be going only by setting out for somewhere else.�

R. Buckminster Fuller


Taken from the bridge crossing the Mosel(le)


21 As per usual with our group of friends, some from Italy, Spain, Albania, India, Vietnam and of course the United States, planning ahead is more of a mere suggestion. This time, however, we got off on our feet early in the morning to buy unavailable train tickets to France. Once the panic subsided that we might have woken up at 7 a.m. for nothing we figured out how to get a bus to the next stop and then purchase train tickets in Luxembourg City. Well, we missed that connecting train in Luxembourg but I’ll always remember this daytrip as the first time I ran frantically through a train station. I was sure it wouldn’t be the last– and it wasn’t.


We eventually made it to Metz, a beautiful city, and wandered around the whole town. Extremely walkable, we toured the city in erratic semicircles, exploring the shopping, cathedral, city center, park, gardens, river and every nook and cranny we found. The meandering was fairly uncoordinated, stopping as we pleased at different sites. We calculated our visit to the Centre Pompidou-Metz (right), the Metz Cathedral and the Fort de Queuleu. At the fort we watched a group of teenagers playing a golf-type game in the medieval entryway, recklessly smacking

golf balls into centuries-old stone walls. The Centre Pompidou-Metz, a modern architecural marvel, was a nice change of pace from the rest of the picturesque stone town. I really appreciated the integration of the landscape architecture to match the undulating curves of the building itself. We soaked in the sights, joked and palled around the town till the last train out, with sore feet and our eyes focused on the next four months ahead.


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25 // germany

berlin An exciting first trip, Berlin held up a high standard for our continued travels. A beautiful city, with diversity in architecture and culture, introduced us to Germany and it’s wonderful people in the most amazing ways.

“But surely it would have been a pity not to have seen the trees along this road, really exaggerated in their beauty, not to have seen them gesturing like noble pantomimists, robed in pink.�

Questions of Travel Elizabeth Bishop


Taken from the bridge crossing Museum Island


27 We arrived in Berlin with speckles of rain adding a game of chance to our hourlong walk to the Airbnb we rented for the four-day weekend, a one room apartment with five beds above a colorful retail shop selling many things leather-clad and sexually taboo. We started off viewing the city on foot, with all of our necessary belongings for the weekend on our backs. We quickly fell in love with the neighborhood we stayed in, the Schรถneberg area, with a mix of modern and centuries-old architecture and lots of shops and restaurants. Throughout the weekend we walked to the many tourist spots in the city, the Brandenburg Gate, the Reichstag Building, Checkpoint Charlie, Museum Island, Topography of Terror, and the Berlin Victory Column. We spent a long time in the Bauhaus Museum and languished happily int he sun at a beer garden in the Tiergarten park. We shopped (without purchasing anything because the study-abroad budget does not include luxury goods) at KaDeWe and ran around the city through an organized bar crawl with a group of rowdy travelers from all over Europe. Berlin will always be full of fond memories of the places we saw and the people we met. Surely will be back again.



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germany //

koblenz A trip to Antwerp went awry, leaving us with one day in Koblenz instead of three in Antwerp. What started out as a trainmissing disaster ended up being a wonderful afternoon in a lovely city.

“Mistakes are the portals of discovery.�

James Joyce


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My main view when walking on many precarious cobbled walkways


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View from the cable car that shows the Rhine and Mosel

Backside of monument to Kaiser Wilhem I



35 // italy

florence We spent a short weekend visiting our fellow friends and classmates who lived and studied in Florence for a semester. Their company and knowledge of the city made the weekend in Italy feel like home.

“Wherever you go, go with all your heart.�

Confucius


We visited fellow KU students studying in Florence. Their apartment was 1. Giant and 2. Right next to the Duomo. Out of the window all you can see is faded teal and white tile right there. They attended an international school there, along with half of the American collegiate abroad students apparently. Out to dinner we heard so much English I thought I was dreaming. Rooms full of Americans seemed strange and disconcerting. After being in Trier, where people spoke unsure English only when prompted, hearing American English spoken (often loudly or annoyingly) was mind blowing and extremely strange. Our friends told us there are many universities in Florence with strong study abroad programs. I think it really influenced the area. There were a lot of touristy spots and it was hard to know if anything we went to was really authentic or a gimmick for the many travelers looking for something “truly� Italian. None the less, the city was extremely beautiful. The weather was warm and sunny, brightening the warm palette of the city. The Mediterranean rooftops bathed in sun for our feasting tourist eyes. We wandered the city, saw the major cites like the Duomo (constantly and woke up to the street musicians who play the same eight songs all day long everyday) the Porto Vecchio, and hiked up a wellbeaten path to see the whole city laid out before us. We stayed in their apartment right outside the Duomo


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I was impressed with the green space outside of the city. The hills of Tuscany were stunningly beautiful and looked so untouched. Houses dotted some of the hills around the city but the landscape appeared saved from complete cultivation and retained its natural beauty in a wonderful, enveloping way for the city. It’s a comfort I think, to be wandering the crowded, cramped and bustling streets

of Florence and see the rolling hills in the distance behind the bustling town. We went to a jazz club which was very cool. The music was exciting and I think the musicians were all very talented. Amy Winehouse meets Alabama Shakes. Wish they would have left a card so we could look them up again. There we made some new friends from Stockholm and saw them again the next night.


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Song Song of the of Open the Open Road Road WaltBYWhitman WALT WHITMAN 1 Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road. The earth, that is sufficient, I do not want the constellations any nearer, I know they are very well where they are, I know they suffice for those who belong to them. (Still here I carry my old delicious burdens, I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go, I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them, I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return.) 2 You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all that is here, I believe that much unseen is also here. Here the profound lesson of reception, nor preference nor denial, The black with his woolly head, the felon, the diseas’d, the illiterate person, are not denied; The birth, the hasting after the physician, the beggar’s tramp, the drunkard’s stagger, the laughing party of

mechanics, The escaped youth, the rich person’s carriage, the fop, the eloping couple, The early market-man, the hearse, the moving of furniture into the town, the return back from the town, They pass, I also pass, any thing passes, none can be interdicted, None but are accepted, none but shall be dear to me. 3 You air that serves me with breath to speak! You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape! You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers! You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides! I believe you are latent with unseen existences, you are so dear to me. You flagg’d walks of the cities! you strong curbs at the edges! You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves! you timber-lined sides! you distant ships! You rows of houses! you window-pierc’d façades! you roofs! You porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards! You windows whose transparent shells might expose so much! You doors and ascending steps! you arches! You gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden crossings! From all that has touch’d you I believe you have imparted to yourselves, and now would impart the same secretly to me, From the living and the dead you have peopled your impassive surfaces, and the spirits thereof would be evident and amicable with me.


39 41 4 The earth expanding right hand and left hand, The picture alive, every part in its best light, The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted, The cheerful voice of the public road, the gay fresh sentiment of the road. O highway I travel, do you say to me Do not leave me? Do you say Venture not—if you leave me you are lost? Do you say I am already prepared, I am well-beaten and undenied, adhere to me? O public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you, You express me better than I can express myself, You shall be more to me than my poem. I think heroic deeds were all conceiv’d in the open air, and all free poems also, I think I could stop here myself and do miracles, I think whatever I shall meet on the road I shall like, and whoever beholds me shall like me, I think whoever I see must be happy. 5 From this hour I ordain myself loos’d of limits and imaginary lines, Going where I list, my own master total and absolute, Listening to others, considering well what they say, Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating, Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me. I inhale great draughts of space, The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.

I am larger, better than I thought, I did not know I held so much goodness. All seems beautiful to me, I can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me I would do the same to you, I will recruit for myself and you as I go, I will scatter myself among men and women as I go, I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them, Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me, Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me. 6 Now if a thousand perfect men were to appear it would not amaze me, Now if a thousand beautiful forms of women appear’d it would not astonish me. Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons, It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth. Here a great personal deed has room, (Such a deed seizes upon the hearts of the whole race of men, Its effusion of strength and will overwhelms law and mocks all authority and all argument against it.) Here is the test of wisdom, Wisdom is not finally tested in schools, Wisdom cannot be pass’d from one having it to another not having it, Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof, Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content,


Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things; Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul. Now I re-examine philosophies and religions, They may prove well in lecturerooms, yet not prove at all under the spacious clouds and along the landscape and flowing currents. Here is realization, Here is a man tallied—he realizes here what he has in him, The past, the future, majesty, love—if they are vacant of you, you are vacant of them. Only the kernel of every object nourishes; Where is he who tears off the husks for you and me? Where is he that undoes stratagems and envelopes for you and me? Here is adhesiveness, it is not previously fashion’d, it is apropos; Do you know what it is as you pass to be loved by strangers? Do you know the talk of those turning eye-balls? 7 Here is the efflux of the soul, The efflux of the soul comes from within through embower’d gates, ever provoking questions, These yearnings why are they? these thoughts in the darkness why are they? Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sunlight expands my blood? Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?

Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me? (I think they hang there winter and summer on those trees and always drop fruit as I pass;) What is it I interchange so suddenly with strangers? What with some driver as I ride on the seat by his side? What with some fisherman drawing his seine by the shore as I walk by and pause? What gives me to be free to a woman’s and man’s good-will? what gives them to be free to mine? 8 The efflux of the soul is happiness, here is happiness, I think it pervades the open air, waiting at all times, Now it flows unto us, we are rightly charged. Here rises the fluid and attaching character, The fluid and attaching character is the freshness and sweetness of man and woman, (The herbs of the morning sprout no fresher and sweeter every day out of the roots of themselves, than it sprouts fresh and sweet continually out of itself.) Toward the fluid and attaching character exudes the sweat of the love of young and old, From it falls distill’d the charm that mocks beauty and attainments, Toward it heaves the shuddering longing ache of contact. 9 Allons! whoever you are come travel with me! Traveling with me you find what never tires. The earth never tires, The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first, Nature is rude and incomprehen-


43 sible at first, Be not discouraged, keep on, there are divine things well envelop’d, I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell. Allons! we must not stop here, However sweet these laid-up stores, however convenient this dwelling we cannot remain here, However shelter’d this port and however calm these waters we must not anchor here, However welcome the hospitality that surrounds us we are permitted to receive it but a little while. 10 Allons! the inducements shall be greater, We will sail pathless and wild seas, We will go where winds blow, waves dash, and the Yankee clipper speeds by under full sail. Allons! with power, liberty, the earth, the elements, Health, defiance, gayety, selfesteem, curiosity; Allons! from all formules! From your formules, O bat-eyed and materialistic priests. The stale cadaver blocks up the passage—the burial waits no longer. Allons! yet take warning! He traveling with me needs the best blood, thews, endurance, None may come to the trial till he or she bring courage and health, Come not here if you have already spent the best of yourself, Only those may come who come in sweet and determin’d bodies, No diseas’d person, no rum-drinker or venereal taint is permitted here.

(I and mine do not convince by arguments, similes, rhymes, We convince by our presence.) 11 Listen! I will be honest with you, I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes, These are the days that must happen to you: You shall not heap up what is call’d riches, You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve, You but arrive at the city to which you were destin’d, you hardly settle yourself to satisfaction before you are call’d by an irresistible call to depart, You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those who remain behind you, What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting, You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach’d hands toward you. 12 Allons! after the great Companions, and to belong to them! They too are on the road—they are the swift and majestic men—they are the greatest women, Enjoyers of calms of seas and storms of seas, Sailors of many a ship, walkers of many a mile of land, Habituès of many distant countries, habituès of far-distant dwellings, Trusters of men and women, observers of cities, solitary toilers, Pausers and contemplators of tufts, blossoms, shells of the shore…


A hike from Mettlach took us to Saarschleife


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A view of Saarburg from a high tower


Dancers at wedding-dances, kissers of brides, tender helpers of children, bearers of children, Soldiers of revolts, standers by gaping graves, lowerers-down of coffins, Journeyers over consecutive seasons, over the years, the curious years each emerging from that which preceded it, Journeyers as with companions, namely their own diverse phases, Forth-steppers from the latent unrealized baby-days, Journeyers gayly with their own youth, journeyers with their bearded and well-grain’d manhood, Journeyers with their womanhood, ample, unsurpass’d, content, Journeyers with their own sublime old age of manhood or womanhood, Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe, Old age, flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of death. 13 Allons! to that which is endless as it was beginningless, To undergo much, tramps of days, rests of nights, To merge all in the travel they tend to, and the days and nights they tend to, Again to merge them in the start of superior journeys, To see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass it, To conceive no time, however distant, but what you may reach it and pass it, To look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for you, however long but it stretches and waits for you, To see no being, not God’s or any, but you also go thither, To see no possession but you may possess it, enjoying all without labor or purchase, abstracting the feast yet not abstracting one particle of it,

To take the best of the farmer’s farm and the rich man’s elegant villa, and the chaste blessings of the well-married couple, and the fruits of orchards and flowers of gardens, To take to your use out of the compact cities as you pass through, To carry buildings and streets with you afterward wherever you go, To gather the minds of men out of their brains as you encounter them, to gather the love out of their hearts, To take your lovers on the road with you, for all that you leave them behind you, To know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for traveling souls. All parts away for the progress of souls, All religion, all solid things, arts, governments—all that was or is apparent upon this globe or any globe, falls into niches and corners before the procession of souls along the grand roads of the universe. Of the progress of the souls of men and women along the grand roads of the universe, all other progress is the needed emblem and sustenance. Forever alive, forever forward, Stately, solemn, sad, withdrawn, baffled, mad, turbulent, feeble, dissatisfied, Desperate, proud, fond, sick, accepted by men, rejected by men, They go! they go! I know that they go, but I know not where they go, But I know that they go toward the best— toward something great. Whoever you are, come forth! or man or woman come forth! You must not stay sleeping and dallying there in the house, though you built it, or though it has been built for you.


47 Out of the dark confinement! out from behind the screen! It is useless to protest, I know all and expose it. Behold through you as bad as the rest, Through the laughter, dancing, dining, supping, of people, Inside of dresses and ornaments, inside of those wash’d and trimm’d faces, Behold a secret silent loathing and despair. No husband, no wife, no friend, trusted to hear the confession, Another self, a duplicate of every one, skulking and hiding it goes, Formless and wordless through the streets of the cities, polite and bland in the parlors, In the cars of railroads, in steamboats, in the public assembly, Home to the houses of men and women, at the table, in the bedroom, everywhere, Smartly attired, countenance smiling, form upright, death under the breast-bones, hell under the skull-bones, Under the broadcloth and gloves, under the ribbons and artificial flowers, Keeping fair with the customs, speaking not a syllable of itself, Speaking of any thing else but never of itself. 14 Allons! through struggles and wars! The goal that was named cannot be countermanded. Have the past struggles succeeded? What has succeeded? yourself? your nation? Nature? Now understand me well—it is provided in the essence of things that from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth something to make a greater struggle necessary.

My call is the call of battle, I nourish active rebellion, He going with me must go well arm’d, He going with me goes often with spare diet, poverty, angry enemies, desertions. 15 Allons! the road is before us! It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well—be not detain’d! Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen’d! Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn’d! Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher! Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law. Camerado, I give you my hand! I give you my love more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law; Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me? Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?



49 // germany

cologne Or Köln, was a necessary daytrip to purchase our Eurail tickets for an upcoming journey. The weather was cold; the city was interesting. A juxtaposition of the medieval and modern.

“Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.”

Anita Desai


The High Cathedral of Saint Peter is 157 meters tall

Detail of cathedral door.


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Street with lots of shopping in Cologne



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I’m here, right now, and not for long. Wangechi Mutu


germany //

nuremburg Nuremburg served as a kick-off to a six-city tour of Germany, Czechia, and Austria. The visit wasn’t very long, only a long afternoon, but was filled with charm.

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”

Terry Pratchett A Hat Full of Sky


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A glimpse of St.Lorenz.


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My travel companions, Ella and Liz, peruse the dried fruits in the square of the NĂźrnberger Christkindlesmarkt.



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Interiors of the impressive St.Lorenz cathedral.



61 // czech republic

prague Was incredibly beautiful. The architecture seemed transported from another time, but the storefronts and restaurants were stylish and modern. An awesome and exciting juxtaposition. We could only stay a day and a half, we wished it could have been more immediately after our first few steps out.

“Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.�

Mary Ritter Beard


Our hostel, Arthole, was a creative outpouring of different wall murals dedicated to famous artists. Mondrian, Picasso, Warhol and others were celebrated in the shabby chic interior. Going East to Prague made me realize how comfortable I’ve become with German and how much German we’ve learned compared to the complete lack of knowledge we had with the Czech language. Walking up to restaurants and having no idea what the operation hours or price equivalents was a wake up call to the distance from something comfortable. Somehow, Germany became home. With our friends and lives established, however temporarily, Trier became safe and comfortable. Something we couldn’t have imagined our first days there in our daze of jet lag and confusion. Prague was a fascinating city, the furthest East I had ever been, in comparison to the more western cities we are used to.

Above: View from the Charles bridge that links the Old and New towns. Right: Liz enjoying bubbles in the Old Town Square


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So different in language and yet, when we go out to bars and clubs at night, it seems all the same. People, no matter the country, want to go out and socialize, dance with their friends and discover a new love interest. Prague was a little grittier, steeped in culture and marvelous. Sleep deprived, exhausted and excited- we set our sights on Brno.


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czech republic //

brno We took a short daytrip to Brno on the way from Prague to Vienna. One of our friends from Italy planned a tour with an old roomate, Catarina, who studies in Brno and showed us around town. For such a large city, the second largest in the Czech Republic, the city had a small town feel.

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.�

Martin Buber


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The city center was rather petite but very nice. We sat down to a long lunch outdoors and listened, without understanding, to the two old friends rapidly speak Italian. The weather turned out to be beautiful and the city was very walkable, close distances of a couple minutes from all the sights we wanted to explore with the help of our guide. The city center was filled with traditional European architecture from the 18th to 20th centuries, but the outside of the city was filled with modern residential high rises, making an interesting juxtaposition to itself and other cities we have seen.


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A view down a side road of Freedom Square.


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Kissing Stieglitz Good-Bye Gerald Stern, 1925

Every city in America is approached through a work of art, usually a bridge but sometimes a road that curves underneath or drops down from the sky. Pittsburgh has a tunnel— you don’t know it—that takes you through the rivers and under the burning hills. I went there to cry in the woods or carry my heavy bicycle through fire and flood. Some have little parks— San Francisco has a park. Albuquerque is beautiful from a distance; it is purple at five in the evening. New York is Egyptian, especially from the little rise on the hill at 14-C; it has twelve entrances like the body of Jesus, and Easton, where I lived, has two small floating bridges in front of it that brought me in and out. I said good-bye to them both when I was 57. I’m reading Joseph Wood Krutch again—the second time. I love how he lived in the desert. I’m looking at the skull of Georgia O’Keeffe. I’m kissing Stieglitz good-bye. He was a city, Stieglitz was truly a city in every sense of the word; he wore a library across his chest; he had a church on his knees. I’m kissing him good-bye; he was, for me,


77 the last true city; after him there were only overpasses and shopping centers, little enclaves here and there, a skyscraper with nothing near it, maybe a meaningless turf where whores couldn’t even walk, where nobody sits, where nobody either lies or runs; either that or some pure desert: a lizard under a boojum, a flower sucking the water out of a rock. What is the life of sadness worth, the bookstores lost, the drugstores buried, a man with a stick turning the bricks up, numbering the shards, dream twenty-one, dream twenty-two. I left with a glass of tears, a little artistic vial. I put it in my leather pockets next to my flask of Scotch, my golden knife and my keys, my joyful poems and my T-shirts. Stieglitz is there beside his famous number; there is smoke and fire above his head; some bowlegged painter is whispering in his ear; some lady-in-waiting is taking down his words. I’m kissing Stieglitz goodbye, my arms are wrapped around him, his photos are making me cry; we’re walking down Fifth Avenue; we’re looking for a pencil; there is a girl standing against the wall—I’m shaking now when I think of her; there are two buildings, one is in blackness, there is a dying poplar; there is a light on the meadow; there is a man on a sagging porch. I would have believed in everything.



79 // austria

vienna “Gorgeous” became my most overused word in Vienna. Everywhere we looked we were surrounded by beauty and opulence in architecture, history, and art.

“You go away for a long time and return a different person - you never come all the way back.”

Paul Theroux


The Kunsthistoriches Museum was immaculate and kept our jaws continually dropping. From the absurdly luxurious interior to the astounding art collection of the masters we were awe-inspired. The weather turned rather cold, allowing us little guilt in spending the afternoon inside the glamorous museum. We traveled on Pentecost weekend, which allowed us a day off of class but also prevented a lot of shops from being open– especially on Sunday. We passed some of Vienna’s traditional tourist haunts like the Freud and Mozart Museums, St.Stephens Cathedral and the

staggering Rathaus. While we missed the opportunity to travel by Segway or petite race car, as we saw in the city so often, we walked the city on foot and appreciated the close proximity of our hostel to the Museum district. As a whole, Vienna seemed light, airy and spread out. The streets were clean and wide, as if it was aware of its beauty and posing to be photographed. On every block we found examples of design (posters, branding, signage) we pointed out and took photos of in appreciation and for future inspiration. It seems an aesthetically-minded city,


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Liz taking a photo of the Rathaus.

Inside the Kunsthistorisches Museum


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Shopping district near Michaelerplatz

The opulent interior of the Kunsthistorisches Museum


We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down. Kurt Vonnegut


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austria //

salzburg A town in Austria with a fort on a hill captured my heart as one of the most spell-binding views we had experienced unfurled itself in Salzburg.

“I cannot make my days longer, so I strive to make them better.�

Paul Theroux


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91 I wasn’t expecting much, I knew little of Salzburg, but the town was spellbinding. The views from the top of the fort were incredible. The snow-specked mountains were splayed out before the green forests. Fog rolled in and out of the crevasses towing over the white and grey shining city. Pastel yellow overcast the town in a warmth under the cold mountains. Unforgettable.



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Paul Theroux

“You think of travelers as bold, but our guilty secret is that travel is one of the laziest ways on earth of passing the time. Travel is not merely the business of being bone-idle, but also an elaborate bumming evasion, allowing us to call attention to ourselves with our conspicuous absence while we intrude upon other people’s privacy — being actively offensive as fugitive freeloaders. The traveler is the greediest kind of romantic voyeur, and in some well-hidden part of the traveler’s personality is an unpickable knot of vanity, presumption, and mythomania bordering on the pathological. This is why a traveler’s worst nightmare is not the secret police or the witch doctors or malaria, but rather the prospect of meeting another traveler. Most writing about travel takes the form of jumping to conclusions, and so most travel books are superfluous, the thinnest, most transparent monologuing. Little better than a license to bore, travel writing is the lowest form of literary self-indulgence: dishonest complaining, creative mendacity, pointless heroics, and chronic posturing, much of it distorted with Munchausen syndrome.”


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97 // germany

munich Or München, served as a welcome back to Germany and the greenest last stop on our six-city tour.

“… I have seldom heard a train go by and not wished I was on it.”

Paul Theroux


The frigid weather put a wedge into some of our Munich plans. We got in late, it was raining and freezing cold. The hostel, Wombats, was the nicest we had stayed in and we spent the remainder of the evening in the bar there before waking up early to get a look around Munich the next day. After five previous days of travel I was not in awe of Munich; it was a nice city. There were exquisite historic buildings, center squares, gardens and plenty of photo opportunities. The weather was a contributing factor in my lack of more excitement, we were shivering and jogging in place outside of gardens and monuments to keep warm. May 17th had a cold morning, a little sun showed in the late afternoonjust in time for us to run (literally, we were late) to the hostel, grab our bags and start the six hour journey back to Trier. But the museums were impressive, the surfers as entertaining as they were confusing and entertaining and overall a city I would love to return to.


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portugal //

faro The first stop on a trip to Portugal, Spain and Morocco, Faro served as an exciting first taste of Southern Europe.

“Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travelers don’t know where they’re going. Travel is glamorous only in retrospect.

Paul Theroux


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Right across the harbor on Avenue da RepĂşblica


105 103 We didn’t originally imagine we would be able to fit a trip to Portugal into our every-other weekend trips. However, in order to get to Seville for our Moroccan take off point we had to go through the RyanAir airport in Faro, Portugal. Once we arrived we were happily surprised at the beautiful architecture and proximity of the beach. The scent of the ocean excited us as we got off the bus and walked to our hostel, stopping to marvel at the palm trees we had not seen much of in Germany. We spent our twenty four hours exploring the city (briefly), eating tapas, drinking on the rooftop patio of our hostel and going to the beach. With reddened noses and shoulders we left for Seville the next day fondly looking back and promising ourselves another visit.



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111 // morocco

morocco We broke off from the European continent to see Tetuan, Chefchaouen, Assilah, and Tangiers over a three-day excursion.

“The wish to travel seems to me characteristically human: the desire to move, to satisfy your curiosity or ease your fears, to change the circumstances of your life, to be a stranger, to make a friend, to experience an exotic landscape, to risk the unknown..�

Paul Theroux


Three days in Morocco was nowhere near enough but with little knowledge of the culture and how to travel in the country we decided to participate in a guided tour group. As we got on the tour bus Friday afternoon we realized it was more like a party bus full of other U.S. college students studying in the takeoff country of Spain. We were excited to see Morocco because of the great difference in culture from the European cities we had traveled. We saw the magnificent blue streets of Chefchaouen, bargained with salesmen in Assilah, rode camels on the beach in Tangiers (still questioning the ethics on that). The architecture was beautiful, intricate and dazzling. The influence on European architecture was obvious, especially when returning to Seville– a city with mixed religious heritage that prevails in the architectural changes over time.


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Chefchaouen, Morocco

Outside the old city walls of Chefchaouen


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Camel ride in Tangiers

Cave of Hercules

Interior of Restaurant Lampe Magique Casa Aladdin


Get in over your head as often and as joyfully as possible Alexander Isley


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spain //

seville Spain proved to be extraordinarily beautiful, full of friendly people, delicious food and varied entertainment. We were lucky to have wonderful, sunny weather to enjoy the colorful city.

“Most travel, and certainly the rewarding kind, involves depending on the kindness of strangers, putting yourself into the hands of people you don’t know and trusting them with your life.”

Paul Theroux


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121 119 An unbelievably beautiful city. Seville stretched my understanding of Spanish culture. The palm trees, the architecture and endless sun charmed our hearts and I fell in love with the city. Luckily, we had an amazing tour guide that we took almost six hours worth of tours from. Getting to know the deep history of the city from its founding until modern day helped us appreciate the Islamic influence of the architecture and economical struggles and structure that the city has today. Our last night we went on a pub crawl and made friends we were sorrowful to leave so soon. A wonderful city with the friendliest people.



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Seville’s architecture inspired the Country Club Plaza in Kansas City, Seville’s sister city and my hometown.


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Plaza de toros de la Real Maestranza de CaballerĂ­a de Sevilla



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It was beautiful, it was extraordinary, it was exquisite, it was naĂŻve, and it was perfect. But it could only be for a certain amount of time. Baz Lurhmann



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london & brighton Traveling can be problematic. Maybe not traveling.. The stomach flu can be problematic while traveling. I, and four of my fellow companions, came down with a stomach virus while we were in London.

“Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.�

Mike Tyson

// england



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Due to that fact, I didn’t see much of London. I was restricted to my hostel bed for most of the short journey. Luckily for me, I had been there when I was sixteen for a nicer stay so I could comfort myself with that knowledge. Before we became bedridden, we traveled for the day to Brighton. A seaside town, cold even in on our June day, but filled with British charm. Tight alleyways, tons of inspiring design choices and a pier that was sweet even in the overcast and wind.



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switzerland //

bern My brother and his fiancée came to visit. We traveled to Bern, Switzerland, Stuttgart, Germany and back to my town of Trier together.

“Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travelers don’t know where they’re going.”

Paul Theroux


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I took my first train completely alone to meet my brother and his fiancĂŠe in Bern. They came up from Italy to join me for four days and it was incredibly nice to see family for a bit. Switzerland was incredibly beautiful and the capitol, Bern, was equally expensive. The hike in prices made me thankful we were only staying two days before moving back to Germany. Before

we left, we got to enjoy the views from the Gurten while dodging rain storms. We ate on patios overlooking the Aare river, saw bears wrestling in an enclosure next to the restaurant on the river and walked the picturesque town.


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143 // germany

stuttgart We were welcomed back to Germany with a significant amount of rain. The two days in Stuttgart were a bit stunted by the weather, but appreciated nonetheless.

“Travel is flight and pursuit in equal parts.�

Paul Theroux


Above: Schlossplatz Square, Right: Interior of Mercedes-Benz Museum


145 143 We arrived on a rainy evening, our walk to the hotel (I did not misspell “hostel�; I meant hotel and I hear people with actual incomes can afford them) that my brother got for us was construed and delayed by construction that completely overtook the park, Mittlerer Schlossgarten, in front of the hotel. In-between showers, we visited beer gardens, watched Germany play in the UEFA European Championship, went shopping, wandered through the Mercedes-Benz museum and walked through the downtown.


Neuhausen-Rhine Falls, on the way to Stuttgart from Bern

Interior of Mercedes-Benz Museum


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My brother, Trevor, and his fiancĂŠe, Sara, at almost three months till their wedding


Karin Boye

Yes, of course it hurts when buds are breaking. Why else would springtime falter? Why would all our ardent longing bind itself in frozen, bitter pallor? After all, the bud was covered all the winter. What new thing is it that bursts and wears? Yes, of course it hurts when buds are breaking, hurts for that which grows

and that which bars.

Yes, it is hard when drops are falling. Trembling with fear, and heavy hanging, cleaving to the twig, and swelling, sliding– weight draws them down, though they go on clinging. Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided, hard to feel the depths attract and call, yet sit fast and merely tremble– hard to want to stay

and want to fall.

Then, when things are worst and nothing helps the tree’s buds break as in rejoicing, then, when no fear holds back any longer, down in glitter go the twig’s drops plunging, forget that they were frightened by the new, forget their fear before the flight unfurled– feel for a second their greatest safety, rest in that trust

that creates the world.


149 147 May 2nd Devid Lehman

Someday I’d like to go to Atlantic City with you not to gamble (just being there with you is enough of a gamble) but to ride the high white breakers have a Manhattan and listen to a baritone saxophone play a tune called “Salsa Eyes” with you beside me on a banquette but why stop there let’s go to Paris in November when it’s raining and we read the Tribune at La Rotonde our hotel room has a big bathtub I knew you’d like that and we can be a couple of unknown Americans what are we waiting for let’s go


italy //

rome Ninety degrees and sunny, Rome proved to be extremely beautiful no matter the scorching weather.

“Rome is the city of echoes, the city of illusions, and the city of yearning.

Giotto di Bondone


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153 151 We had to leave our dorms at 3 am to get to the airport in time for our 7 am flight to Rome. Being unable to get any sleep, It made the day extremely long. We did get a lot of sightseeing, and eating, done. Pasta and gelato were our main sources of energy during our trip to Italy. The massive calorie intake was (hopefully) evened out by walking all day in the heat while carrying our heavy backpacks.


We tried the famous Spritz beverage, I’m not a huge fan of the aftertaste but I can see the appeal. In Rome, the food was excellent and the people were very friendly. The city was extremely beautiful around every corner. We stayed in the Trastevere area. It had a nice array of shops, restaurants and bars. We put our

tourist hats on and visited the Colosseum, the Foro Palatino ruins, the Trevi Fountain, the Parthenon and the Vatican. I peeked at the Ara Pacis through glass as we arrived after the museum closed. As per our usual routine, we walked all around the city and really enjoyed the fading sunset colors and exquisite beauty of Rome.


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161 // italy

florence II I got a second chance to spend a bit of time Florence with a different traveling group.

“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.”

Robert Louis Stevenson



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We had about 24 hours in Florence before heading to Venice. Our second time there, we led the group a little to figure out what to do in our short time. We ate at Il Mercato Centrale, climbed 414 steps up the tower of the Duomo, walked to the Ponte Vecchio, walked the town and woke up early the next morning to hike up to the top of the Duomo (463 steps). We stayed such a short time in Florence because some of us had been there before and we wanted to have more time in our next stop, Venice.



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italy //

venice was very interesting. The canals were beautiful if you pretend to not smell them.

“The use of traveling is to regulate imagina- Samuel Johnson tion by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are.�


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The novelty of the city and the water-run lifestyle intrigued us, we stayed outside of the main island on Giudecca and took boats into the city and back. Giudecca was nice because it was quieter and had less of the complete takeover of tourists that markedly changed the view of Venice I held. It seemed like Disney World. Everyone was a tourist or selling something to tourists. I saw one grocery store, everything else was propped up for the tourists. I’m sure there are areas that are more authentic and we didn’t make it to them, but for all the beauty of the city it felt very uncomfortably artificial.


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175 // ireland

ireland We arrived, rather harshly as RyanAir tends to do, in Kerry. Everything was deeply green; the air was fresh and damp. Within the first day it was made clear I had packed for a summer trip to Ireland which does not exist.

“To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.�

Freya Stark



177 175 I bought another layer to suit up for the wind and rainy mist that unfathomably coats your body in seconds. My hair’s aversion to humidity did not change, but my concern for the frizziness that has become its constant texture has dwindled after living in Germany for four months. In Trier I look out the window and my hair grows in size. But Ireland, cold even in July, was exceedingly beautiful. My family, paternal and maternal sides, has roots in Ireland so I was always fascinated and had a natural inkling of interest in the country. My brown hair, blue eyes and pasty white skin (Italy’s sun didn’t take) fit right in. We traveled along the western coast a bit, starting in Kerry, going to Tralee, Limerick, Ennis, the cliffs of Moher, Galway and back to Tralee. The bus rides in between towns showed gorgeous rolling landscapes of green pastures and quaint small towns. By far the most exciting part was seeing the cliffs. I walked, with my fear of heights, uncomfortably close to the edge of the sheer cliff face. About 200 meters below the black, jagged shale, blue water crashed into wet rocks and swirled into aqua foam far below the feet of windwhipped travelers. Many dancing on the edge to take a photo of the hurling deep. Several times people slipped and caught their balance– giving me heart attacks– on the windy bluffs. The natural beauty of the cliffs, their majesty, holds a power over human life that I respect enough to keep a selfie stick away from.

Left: River Shannon in Limerick from King John’s Castle



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The train station we spent too much time at in Limerick


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Cliffs of Moher

Rainy street in Tralee


The little towns were charming, the pubs were cozy and the food was nicely similar to that in the States because I still have an aversion to most meats which exempted me from participating in ordering a traditional Irish breakfast. There was Gaelic everywhere, on all public signs and many advertisements. We saw St.John’s Castle in Limerick, had tea, had fish (except me) and chips in Tralee from a tiny little restaurant, Quinlan’s, recommended to us by our hostel owner where the fish monger gave advice on cooking techniques to customers like I envision occurs regularly and charmingly in small towns. We ate delicious tacos and Tuco’s, stayed in the smallest hostel room I had ever seen and saw a three euro movie during the rain in Galway. We heard traditional and modern live music in different pubs, met interesting Irish, British and Welsh people out at night and I lost my voice talking about the state of American politics with an enthusiastic Londoner in town for a stag do that weekend.

The people in Ireland were shockingly friendly. In many ways it felt like the US, where people were happy to talk and joke with strangers. We saw a lot of American flags hanging outside pubs and restaurants, and while it’s probably just a way to pull in the many American tourists, it made us feel welcome. I will definitely be back to Ireland, I’d like to see Dublin, Cork and Cavan (where my families came from two hundred years ago). But the small town Ireland I got a taste of was extremely delightful and utterly charming.


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Arlon, Belgium. An hour drive from Trier


france & monaco //

france & monaco We planned out nine days in southern France. Arriving in Montpellier and stopping for a night there and in Marseille because RyanAir’s cheap flights wouldn’t get us to our final destination of Nice. We planned to stay overnight there and take several day trips to neighboring towns along the Côte d’Azur.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

Mark Twain


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Arriving late at night, we walked through dark, dirty and potently urine-scented streets in Montpellier to get to our small and unbelievably hot hotel room for one night. We walked around town and grabbed a questionably greasy baguette with cheese at a late night place while warming up the French I hadn’t used since freshman year. The next day was much lovelier, the city was beautiful in the daylight and livened up by events for the Tour de France. Giant crowds poured around a stage where an announcer spoke rapidly with members of one of the cycling teams. We then left for Marseille, where we planned to stay one night and then head to Nice for the rest of our stay. It was Bastille day and people were off work. We saw the harbor, walked around the town and enjoyed the sunset behind the swaying docks. We were enjoying a few beers at our hostel when we heard of the terrorist attack in Nice. Over eighty people, including ten children, had been killed and hundreds injured when a terrorist in a semi-truck drove through crowds and shot into cafés for about a mile after the Bastille day fireworks show ended. Right along the Promenade d’Anglais, where we were going the next day and where we definitely would have been if RyanAir would have offered a direct flight to Nice. We couldn’t believe it. We messaged our parents and friends letting them know we were alright, not in Nice, and sat looking at each other in silence for a long time. My friend cried. My heart felt heavy and scared. Pounding fireworks

for Bastille day were set off (not everyone had heard the news yet) and we shrieked, fearing a bomb had gone off. We changed our plans. Not out of fear, because we knew that the area would be covered in security, but because the city was in mourning and vacationing there with attempted careless hearts felt disrespectful. I stayed up almost all night reading the news and figuring out what to do. We stayed in Marseille another night and then switched our overnight location from Nice to Cannes and then two nights Aix-en-Provence. I believe that in the face of terrorism it is important to be unafraid and continue living your life. So, with heavier hearts and awareness of how lucky we were, we set off for Cannes. We went to Nice for a daytrip on Monday, July 18th, four days after the attack. We were struck by how beautiful the city was. Tragically, covered in flowers, stuffed animals, candles and hand written notes about those murdered in the attack. We were in the large crowd for the city wide moment of silence on the Promenade d’Anglais. I cried as I saw friends and family members of the deceased carrying flowers to the mounds of memorabilia for the dead. The crowd sang the Marseillaise and applauded for the spirit of the country. The city was in mourning, flags tied with black ribbon, but not defeated. No one was defeated. Angry and crying but as resilient and defiant as ever. We tried to think of the beauty of the city the rest of our stay there. Museums were closed so we sat on the beach, entranced by the tranquil and azure waters.


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From the Promenade d’Anglais


193 187 We walked through markets and parks. Life was moving on there, people suntanning and hang-gliding. Shopping, eating out and talking. Life will always move on. We returned to Cannes and appreciated it like a French Malibu. The people were tanned, dressed up in electric colors with the appearance of a gloss the rest of the country wouldn’t care to make an effort for. The young men and women were all very beautiful in a stereotypical Hollywood-esque way. It was puzzling after seeing casual, effortlessly chic appearance of most Europeans for so long. Of course the tourists were mixed in but it was too high a percentage for it to only be travelers. We visited Monaco, a tiny, bustling metropolis on the water for the ßber rich that left us rolling our eyes at the extravagance and sighing with wide eyes at the beauty of the views. We went to the Aquarium that juts high into the air next to the water and toured the palace of the Grimaldi’s; curiously tours are allowed during one wing despite it being inhabited.


Nothing could beat the beach sunsets. I never thought I would fall so deeply in love with a coastal region; beaches had never been an obsession of mine. I thought of myself as a city girl. But warmly sitting on the pier with the gorgeous pastel sunset setting the mountains into a gradient, disappearing into the ever-pulling water drew me in. My jaw dropped at the pure blue of the water while taking the train from town to town, listening to Édith Piaf to mirror the grandiose landscape I fell head over heels for Cannes, our home base, and the Côte d’Azur.

A sweeping view of Monaco


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Across the road from our AirBnb in Aix en Provence

Macaron from Les Macarons de Caroline in Aix en Provence


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View of Marseille from the Notre-Dame de la Garde

The Vieux Port of Marseille


We traveled, saying goodbye to some friends we met up with again in Cannes from our travels in Seville, for Aix-enProvence. The town was entirely charming and quintessentially southern France in my mind. Fountains centered long, tree-lined roads flanked by markets, cafés and boutiques. The weather continued to be perfect, warm and windy. We saw an extensive collection of Camoin and Cézanne, favorites of mine that were exciting to see, at the Musée Granet. We enjoyed the last trip with tears of heartbreak and crying with laughter. The highs and lows were greater than they had ever been, but most surely worth it. Southern France ended up being my most favorite trip of them all.


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In between goals is a thing called life, that has to be lived and enjoyed Sid Caesar


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Going Home

Trier kissed us goodbye with a beautiful sunrise in July 27th. It was incredibly hard to say goodbye to the friends we made and to the idea of being backpackers. Soon we would be back on our campus, with our old friends, like nothing had happened. But everything had happened. We had all changed and grown as young adults exposed to different worlds. I loved the lifestyle of student and traveler. Always wandering, never settled, constant change. Normalcy seemed a deep, dark punishment. We hold onto the knowledge of a return trip. Maybe for a couple weeks, maybe to live again. The travel bug sank it’s teeth into me and instead of the return journey home making me want to pluck it out, it only drove it deeper. On the nineteen hours of travel back to Kansas City I gripped on tight to the memories of friends and travel, the knowledge of return and hope for the future.


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Design Typography Andreas Hogan Summer 2016 Fachhochschule Trier, Germany Magazine photographed, authored and designed by Devon McGowan. Quotes and excerpts are given credit within the copy text. Photos taken with Canon Powershot G5X Copy set in Futura Printed via Blurb.com Special Thanks to Demore Hoffman-Batey, Ella Gore, Elizabeth Knochelmann, Kristin Enyart and all the friends we made during our stay in Trier; for without whom these trips and wonderful memories would not have been possible.


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takeoff This magazine follows my travels during my semester studying abroad in Germany at the Fachhochschule Trier.


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