I’ve been back on Canadian soil for over a month now and it still hasn’t quite hit me that I lived and travelled in Europe for five months. As I sit here sick in bed I have had some time to reflect on it all. It was an experience that grew me and gave me so much joy and at times sadness. I wouldn’t take any of it back for the world.
On my skin Budapest is inked. Rome is wrapped around my finger. England sits fastened on my ear. And Prague lies around my neck. My travels and their stories have found a permanent home, attached to me, always there to remind me. When I see my hip I will remember my 21st birthday spent within the ruin bars of buda. When my ring flashes in the sun I will think of sitting in the sun in the ruins of Ancient Rome laughing about how good life is. When I go to adjust my earring I will remember spending a week West of London, exploring cities with two forever friends. And when I fiddle with my necklace I will reminisce of my days spent walking through history in Prague and my nights where I ran wild.