January '24

A European Love Letter

Scene from the film ‘Aftersun’

Preface

I actually wrote an entirely “traditional” Substack for January and had fully planned on sending that out this morning — it’s currently 5am mind you — but for some reason, that didn’t feel like the writing I really wanted to publish this month. Instead, I’d like to share some sporadic journaling that I did while traveling in Europe with my buddy Peyton over the holidays.

I’ll be the first to admit that these journal entries are pretty sentimental, but I also think it’s some of the most honest writing I’ve ever done (and I hope that resonates with you). So without further ado, continue on friend; I’m glad you’re here and appreciate your time.

Journal

Dec 23

Yesterday, Peyton and I’s red eye flight landed in London at 7am. Jet lagged and caffeine induced insomnia followed as I showed him around Westminster and Kensington. Later that day we check into the hotel, take a power nap, and grab dinner at Five Guys. Shortly thereafter we grab a four rack of Bud heavies (the king of beers) and head back to the hotel to chill in the room and listen to 2000s country.

Time for liftoff 🚀

Dec 24

We met our group, 47 other solo travelers, in the downstairs café of the hotel and boarded the coach shortly after saying our initial hellos. Took the ferry across the English Channel from Dover where the waters were rough and the sky sharp granite. We got into Amsterdam later that day and checked into the hotel. Got dinner at a small restaurant where Peyton and I sat next to Joel and Lizzy who told us all about Australia. Then took a canal cruise where the young men commandeering the barge play music and provide everyone with unlimited Heineken and white wine.

On the way home, we were given the option to check out the Red Light District where a few of us went into an erotic museum. The woman behind the counter kept making eyes at me which was a bit unnerving. Peyton wanted me to sit in this BDSM chair that had steel wrist and neck straps. “It will be funny,” he said. We finish with a quick loop where several individuals try to sell us coke and pass by some naked women dancing in rented red-rooms/windows — one of which makes eye contact and tries to lure me inside.

Topping off the night we find a bar, buy some shots, and dance onstage with the DJ. I talk to Daphne about neuroscience and literature. Take an Uber home with her, Tania, and Peyton. Discuss relationships and getting older. It was a good day. Onwards and upwards.

Dec 25

It’s Christmas morning and we head over to “Winter Paradise” here in Amsterdam. Ice Skating, tubing, hot chocolate and artificial snow. Around lunch we get back on the coach and head south to Sankt Goar which is a small town that resides on a river in the Rhine Valley. Dinner is a traditional German bratwurst with a few other potato based dishes. Afterwards, we do wine tasting with a local grower and then do Secret Santa as a group. The wine is sweet and the beer smooth here in the heart of Bavaria. Looking forward to our night out in Munich.

Dec 26

We rise and have breakfast as a group. After which we go out to the Rhine and stand in the early dawn light and watch the river pass us by. There are little homes and big castles in the hills on either side adjoining the river. Sankt Goar is quiet and idyllic on the day after Christmas.

We spent most of the day on the coach commuting to Munich, but reach the Bavarian capital as the day’s light fades and check into the hotel. We meet our tour guide in the city’s center and stroll the streets and take in the steeping gothic-like churches that are scattered across the city. At one point we cross through the city’s center which has a large public park and there are no lanterns lit and you could hardly see the graveled path beneath your feet.

We finish the walking tour at a large beer hall and tip the guide. Inside, there are large wooden tables and steins of beer sit empty in front of red faces. We ordered pork knuckle and half a chicken and the man next to our table sits passed out with face down. A beautiful beer maiden glides to and fro and offers us pretzels but I can’t find the words to ask her my way.

We board the coach and call it an early night. Listen to Yellow by Coldplay and doze as the village of Munich passes by.

Dec 27

We begin the day by heading to Dachau concentration camp outside of Munich. Walking the graveled footpaths into camp — treading the footfalls of so many that came and never went — and enter through corrugated steel gates and wander through a series of SS barracks and the sleeping quarters of prisoners alike. It’s a solemn morning. The grounds are quiet and a man-made creek that lines the outskirts of the camp gurgles by. Eventually I break off from the group and make my way solo through the crematorium. That’s when it really hits and it’s a bit overwhelming to be on a vacation traveling Europe and standing in a place like Dachau. I feel privileged beyond measure.

We leave Munich headed south for Austria. It’s a long drive but the Alps begin to tower on either side and the morning flies by. We arrive in Innsbruck and spend the afternoon wandering cobblestone streets with the other tourists. Later in the day we take a gondola up into the mountains and spend golden hour at 6250 ft.

After checking into the hotel we spend a night enjoying a traditional Tyrone evening. I’m surprised at the ingenuity and dedication to the craft that the family performing shows. I also realize halfway through that these people look strikingly familiar to my Mom’s side of the family whom I know are of German descent. Contemplations of my family roots ensue.

We get back to the accommodation and the hotel bar is closed so we get beers from the vending machine (of all places) and Tiera, Arla, Peyton, and I go back to our room and we spend a few hours talking life. Another good day. Need to get some sleep though.

Dec 28

Today it’s Venice. Cobbled streets and gondolas and canals. Wine and Aperol Spritz. We do a walking tour with a native Venetian and she tells us how the city’s population grows smaller and smaller with each passing year. It’s a shame a city as beautiful as Venice is so impractical to live in. Many beautiful things are like this. Impractical that is.

After the walking tour finishes we have a couple hours and a group of us find a restaurant to sit down at. It’s a rather fancy place with red and white checkered tablecloths and plated metal silverware, but we just ask for a drink menu. Peyton and I order a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and the rest of the group drink Aperol Spritz. We get wine drunk and talk amongst new friends and wander the narrow streets, eventually making our way back to the waterfront.

The remainder of the group joins up and we enjoy dinner together. The pasta is superb and the house wine nurses the softening buzz from the aforementioned Sauvignon.

We get into the hotel rather early and head across the street to the bar. A dozen or so of us that are on the tour are there and we play Uno and Jenga and drink Captain Coke made by a bartender who has never heard of such a thing. The Aussies show us a game called Cheers to the Governor and a newly found comradery takes form.

Dec 29

The morning is spent aboard the coach once again as we make our way towards Rome. We check into the hotel, wash up, and head to the city center where we take to the Spanish steps and wander beneath warm Christmas lights. The city is busy, many of which are tourists, but the towering Roman pillars and Egyptian obelisks serve as a consistent reminder as to where we are, that which came before, and what shall come after when we return to dust.

Dec 30

The group left early for the Vatican and I slept in. I’ve seen God’s glory from those halls two times before and some recuperation and quiet after 8 days of social travel is much needed. After getting cleaned up and grabbing something to eat, I take the early afternoon underground train down to the San Saba neighborhood and through the gates of the Protestant cemetery that resides there. The gravestones and pyramid evoke the memory of a previous visit to this same place in years past. I’m a bit surprised by the number of who have made this same pilgrimage to the resting place of John Keats and at the same time I’m not.

There are two wooden benches and I take a seat. I pull up some of his poems on my phone and am reminded why his words resonated so much to a younger self. Truth is beauty, beauty truth. Much of life’s intricacies could be unwrapped in that statement alone.

After returning to the hotel, Peyton and I grab some beers from the nearby grocery store and step outside to the seating area beside the hotel. We’ve invited Tiera and Arla and the conversation is both easy and engaging. Eventually more of the group walk by outside and join for beers — among them Jayden, Ben, and Kyle. We call it an early night in preparation for a big NYE ahead.

Dec 31

We rise early and make our way north to Florence. Starting with a walking tour through the cobbled streets we admire Michelangelo’s marble statue of David — with his veiny forearms and larger than life hands. I can’t help but admire the craftsmanship and years of effort. A true artist. In the same square, the bronze statue of Perseus standing over the body of Medusa while holding her head aloft. Greek mythology in an Italian piazza. Checks out.

Arriving at the hotel, we get cleaned up and make our way to the city’s center along the river for a night out to celebrate New Year’s Eve. The guys make half-ass attempts to dress up and the girls are dressed to the nines. The bar has karaoke and Peyton and I get dragged onstage by Tania and Kate to sing Die Young by Kesha. Thank god we’re a dozen drinks deep.

We leave the bar at 3am and struggle to find a taxi given the tram is down for the night. Sleep finally comes way past 5am with a 7am morning call ahead. Onwards and upwards.

Jan 1

It’s another big coach day as we head from Florence to Lucerne and everyone is incredibly tired. I doze off for a few hours and awake to the steeped slopes of the Swiss Alps and their snow covered caps.

Jan 4

Last day as a group. Closing thoughts? Final feelings?

Europe. A return to form. Traditions that have been long contemplated and even longer enacted. The change of pace is refreshing. Stop trying to move so fast and seek ease in the simplicities of life. Cafés, wine, and midnight walks along the riverfront. Affection originated here. Love too. Probably beneath the Eiffel Tower with a bottle of wine in hand (if I had to guess).

How can one stumble the cobbled streets of Florence or Paris and not entertain romantic notions?

Some Literature

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens;only something in me understands 

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

  - EE Cummings

Thanks for reading my Substack! Feel free to share if you’d like.