I’m going to London tomorrow. Then Canterbury. Then Paris. Then Rome, Florence, and a small Tuscan villa. Then Vienna and Salzburg. Then Munich. Then New York. I didn’t know a single person going on this European trip until two weeks ago. I am allowed 35lbs of luggage, but promised myself I would only take 15 so I could accumulate an extra 20lbs over the next three and a half weeks. I will turn off my cell phone tomorrow until the 19th. Tomorrow morning at 1:00am will be my last shower not hurriedly taken while wearing flip-flops and trying not to touch the shower walls.
I’m start to panic until I remember the next few things.
In exactly 48 hours I will be holding a ticket to the Globe Theatre in London to see Romeo and Juliet performed how it was meant to be seen. The next night I will be watching Les Miserables.
In one week I will be walking through the Louvre and seeing countless pieces of timeless masterpieces. That night I will be watching the sunset from the Eiffel Tower.
In eight days I will have spent an afternoon craning my neck to look at the Sistine Chapel.
In two weeks I will have just seen Michelangelo’s David and Resurrected Christ (and tasted the best gelato in Florence, and therefore the best gelato in the world).
In 16 days I will have seen Mozart’s birthplace and heard one of his symphonies in a beautiful concert hall in Vienna.
In 18 days I will be walking through the Kunsthistorisches and see one of the biggest collections of Rembrandt, Vermeer, and other Northern greats.
In 23 days I will be meeting my family in New York to go to Abe’s graduation, and after driving across the country to Utah. I will finally be flying home on the 27th of May.
I’m scared out of my mind. I’m nervous. I’m grateful. I’m humbled. I’m feeling a bit alone at the moment.
Europe and the beauty you have to offer…here I come.