My Europe Trip in a Nutshell

Disclaimer: This is an essay that I wrote early this year for my final paper in English class wherein I got a happy A. This is one of my favorite self-written essays and was originally entitled "Wanderlust" (one of my favorite words). Traveling is one of my great joys in life.

Like most, I had a lot of dreams as a kid. I knew that I wanted to do a lot and be a lot when I grew up. I wanted to be a superhero, a pop star, a princess and a Disneyland mascot. I wanted to save the world, earn millions and live happily ever after at the happiest place on earth. Great dreams, weren't they? But as I grew up, I found out that those were simply what they were, kids' dreams; far-fetched, extraordinary, and of course, impossible. But I realized that within those dreams, lies a different dream, one that bound these all together and that was my longing for excitement. Not just any kind of excitement though, what I wanted was the kind you got from doing something new. It was the feeling you got from witnessing a magic trick for the first time, or the kind you got from tasting a new ice cream flavor. I wanted to meet interesting people, experience unusual things and visit exotic lands. I realized then, that all I really wanted after all, was to travel.

St. Augustine once said that "The world is a book and those who do not travel read only a page" and this is what I believe in. The world is a huge place and it is there to be discovered. It used to be that every summer vacation, my family would go join tour packages to different countries; China, Japan, Australia, Korea ... well, mostly Asian countries (aside from the US trip) because my mom particularly hated long flights. I didn't. My philosophy was to be as far as I can as possible. The farther I was, the more exciting it got; the people all looked different (now I was exposed to all kinds of races, black, white, hispanic), the weather was different, the food was different, EVERYTHING was different. And well, my philosophy holds true for me even until this day. It was no surprise then, that during my 18th birthday, I asked not for a debut party, but for a trip to Europe.

Europe has always been my dream destination. The postcard-perfect pictures that I've seen almost everywhere have been enough to keep me dreaming about the day I'd be able to set foot on the place for years. I had the most cliche thought about the place too. I dreamt of music playing while I was walking down the streets, of Frenchmen selling baguettes while I was sipping coffee in a cafe, of pigeons flying everywhere surrounding Notre Dame, of the sweet singing of a gondolier and so much more. This was my fairytale. Though I secretly hoped that all these would happen, I knew somewhere in me that it couldn't be as perfect as I imagined it to be. But if there's one thing that my Disney-filled childhood has taught me, it's that fairytales do come true. Europe was all I imagined it to be and more.

The Masquerade

Roman guards, complete with armors and helmets, were roaming around the Trevi Fountain. Gold faced men in extravagant coats were waving to passers-by in Venice. The tin-man was dancing with a little kid on a street in Germany. Van Gogh was sitting on his stool along a sidewalk in Belgium.

All over famous spots and streets in Europe, these street entertainers entertain their way through the hearts of both locals and tourists. How life must be for them (and whether those flamboyant masks and costumes hiding their own faces and bodies was a good thing or not), I did not know. They would pose for a picture, dance, wave, smile--- all for you; as long as you drop enough euros in their can. I still cannot decide whether they were living "the good life", as they say, or whether it was just plain sad.

But it is true that each of us have a different story to tell. One may be in this for the money, the other may be in this for the easy task. Others may find their job amusing, while some did not have any other choice. And for everyone else on the earth, this holds true simply because we all have different reasons and purposes. Everyday we wear a mask, not any different from these people as we play the part that we have to play. Sometimes we need to give a performance, which everybody expects of us. Sometimes we put on a show. There are times when we need to be someone else for others and times when we need to follow our own hearts.

And maybe for them, one thing that they do is to make walking along the streets more interesting than it actually is. Maybe there are times when they need the cheering-up more than the people, but that is life after all. It is one hell of a big masquerade.

Childhood dreams

My father has been a fan of The Beatles for the longest time. He owns all their records, a few souvenir shirts (which he never really stopped wearing until the present on casual outings), and he was one of those few lucky ones who have been able to see them live when the band had their infamous tour in Manila back in 1966. Going to London was his dream, but it was not to step foot in Buckingham Palace, nor was it to look up to the Big Ben from below; it was to be able to walk down the famous Abbey Road where The Beatles had the cover picture of their famous 11th music album shot. No surprises there.

We rode the local taxi early in the morning and my dad couldn't hold his excitement. He was humming Beatles songs and fidgeting all through out the ride. He was like a 5 year old kid eagerly anticipating a trip to the amusement park and I was happy for him. Working hard at 55, he deserved this little nostalgic trip back to his childhood. The weather was extremely cold upon arriving to the place but it was like my dad did not notice. He handed me the camera immediately and asked me to take "a couple of shots" of him walking back and forth the pedestrian lane. He walked down the lane when cars weren't passing and even asked my reluctant brother to join him at one point. There were times when cars were arriving and he would have to run, but he did it over and over again anyway. If my mom hadn't been jumping because she was freezing already, my dad would not have stopped. After 50 (or more) shots, we finally decided to go back to our hotel. During the taxi ride back, my dad was reviewing the pictures I took. The shine in his eyes spoke for the happiness he felt and I couldn't be any happier for him. He was finally able to do something he always dreamt about as a young boy but never thought of being able to do. Nostalgia is one of my favorite emotions and I loved seeing it in people. I was glad to see this in my father but most of all, I was proud to be part of the experience.

Now I finally understood why the past is so enticing to us; why an old man's eye sparkles when he starts to reminisce the "good old days" and why nothing compares to the feeling of rediscovering our old childhood toys. As a person ages, the little magic he once knew about life disappears. He is now sure that happily-ever-afters do not exist and that "following your heart" is one the stupidest things that people made you believe. In looking back to our past, we remember our old innocence. For a few minutes, time stops and you return to your old self. You remember why you never really cared when chocolate dripped down your shirt. You remember why you never really worried about "the important stuff". You remember what it was like to have fun, to trust and to love. You remember what it was like to live. You remember what it was like to be a child once again.

Surprise Surprise!

France surprised me with surprises. As with every other place, I've had initial expectations and I always got more than what I thought, but not as much as I did in this country.

The Eiffel Tower has been the symbol of Paris for the longest time. It never struck me as anything special probably because it is one of the most overused subject in every postcards, photos, calendars and other prints. Nevertheless, I was excited to visit the tower up close since it has always been important to the French and France has always been my favorite country. When the bus stopped at the site, I quickly rushed down, ran to the perfect spot and took pictures (as usual, loads of them). Then we got our ticket, climbed road the tower elevator all the way to the second floor (the tower only had three). I was so excited, running around, taking more pictures, looking at the different people and the different view from above. After spending around 30 minutes or so, our tour guide called us back to the bus. I sat down, smiled, review the pictures as I always did. As the bus started to move, I bent down to pick up my notebook and write down how excited I felt, when I realized that, my bag was no longer there.

At first our tour mates went searching under their seats for my bag too, because they reckon it might have just slipped all the way to the back, but to no avail. A little while later, my mom noticed that one of our other bags (which contained medications, umbrellas and other basic things) was also gone. Soon, the entire group was checking their belongings to see if their bags were missing too and one of the couples were missing their video camera and bags containing more important things such as money, cellphones and the like.

Of all places, I did not expect that something bad like this would happen here. It was an unfortunate event for our tour group but inside, my family was thankful that even though we lost two bags, those two bags didn't contain anything expensive or important. I was sad about losing my notebook and a pair of earrings, which I got from Venice, but I was thankful that it didn't contain other more important things like my camera. It was just the first day of our three day tour in France, and though I felt sad about the losses, I did not let this ruin the rest of my time left there.

On my second night at Paris, we were scheduled to watch a show called Lido. I went for a walk on the Champs Elysees to pass time while waiting. As I loved collecting travel memorabilia, a souvenir shop along the place caught my eye and I ventured inside. I was looking around the different dolls and figurines when a man addressed me as "Mademoiselle?" and suddenly started to talk to me in an Asian language upon seeing me to the face. He was a boy who was probably but a few years older than I am, and I gave a little laugh "I'm sorry, I don't speak Japanese!" I blurted. "Oh, no, that wasn't Japanese, it was Korean" he said in English with his French accent. "This is Japanese" and he started to say things in Japanese. He could have been saying "You look very ugly", but it did not matter. I nodded to him in approval and he knew I was impressed. Who wouldn't be? He was French, he could speak in Korean, Japanese AND English. Not many French can speak in straight English even. We weren't able to talk for long because I had to leave already, but I was able to tell him that I was in fact Chinese, as he impressed me even more with a few Chinese words. I laughed appreciatively, said my thank-you's and I waved goodbye as he bowed his head to me and for the last time addressed me as "Mademoiselle". I was smiling all the way to the show.

We toured around the streets of Paris during the night. The Eiffel Tower was sparkling; its lights were blinking. I never imagined Paris to be this beautiful.

The world could really take you by surprise and this is one of the beauties that I have found in traveling because you never really know what to expect. It is as St. Augustine said, the world IS a book, and a very thick one at that too. You can try reading all the travel guides out there but you still haven't been there unless you've been there, and there is just so much to discover. You can go back to a place that you’ve been to before and find yourself in a totally new adventure.

Maybe one day I really could save the world, earn millions and live happily ever after at the happiest place on earth, just as I had dreamt when I was a kid. But I think I'll put that off for now. I have a number of pages more to visit.