The Euro Diaries Part Two: Losing My Europe Virginity

COVID-cancelled plans, college boyfriends, and the unexpected trip that led me to Europe.

An Invitation to Germany

Earlier that fall, before my first failed trip to Europe, I had a new boyfriend. He was on the soccer team, drove a Mustang, and was German. At the time, I thought he was cool, but I was a silly college girl.

I had seen him around campus, but I had no idea that he was from another country. Eventually, we connected and dated on and off, like many college relationships. He knew about my upcoming trip to Europe and thought it was ironic that I would be traveling throughout his country, not far from where his family lived. He was excited for me and for my first trip, but COVID hit, and my trip was canceled just one week before. The world was in chaos, and he had his own fears about whether he would go home or stay. Traveling home brought on fears that he might never be able to return to finish out his program in America. So, he stayed.

During that time in lockdown, I learned a lot more about him and even about Europe, which increased my curiosity. We would FaceTime his family, and strangely, it made me long for Europe more than I already did.

Summer came, and things settled down slightly, but they were not ever really back to normal until my senior year of college. However, at the end of the summer of 2020, his mom and stepdad called with some news.

They were getting married.

They had been together for almost 20 years, but never sealed the deal. COVID sparked something in them, and they realized it was time.

I was invited.

I did not know how I could travel to Europe during the height of the pandemic, but we somehow found a way. After my failed trip earlier that spring, I thought Europe would have to wait, perhaps for a long time. But maybe this was my chance. A few complicated papers were signed, and we were heading to Germany for a Christmas break wedding.

I was looking forward to finally meeting his family and my first trip to Europe after being let down earlier that year when my trip was canceled. I was able to pack some of the clothes I purchased for my original trip, and my parents bought me a new American Tourister pink suitcase set, which I have since repurchased.

We were off! But not without our face masks, which we had to wear the whole flight and basically anytime we left the house. It was my first flight to this side of the world via Lufthansa, and due to COVID, we had the whole row to ourselves, which I am not sure will ever happen again.

The First Time

We made it to Frankfurt. I felt like I was in another universe. To an American, Europe is another universe. It somehow feels strangely at home and strangely foreign. At least, that is how I felt.

Once we arrived, I was completely overstimulated and jet-lagged between the autobahn speeds, the smaller cars that seemed to fly and whip around, and the streets that were half the size of the ones back home. I thought it was so cute, all the little European license plates; I still think there is something so charming about them. Now I have my own little car with the long, white plate with a blue square on the left side. But it has the letter F instead of D.

Germany was foggy, mossy, cold, and green. In the middle of December, the air was bitterly chilly and dry, but something about it seemed cozy. Everything seemed beautiful to me, even when it probably wasn’t. The graffiti on the brick walls along the autobahn even had charm. I was so surprised by the houses. Old, but they were full of character. I remember that on his street there was a big pink house. How could there be a pink house? It was these little things that made me fall in love with Europe. I had not traveled much outside of the U.S., so every detail seemed special, even the fact that the light switches and outlets looked different.

Europe, Germany, felt slower, calmer, rustic, and like time had taken me back a few years. There were Easter eggs of years, decades, and centuries past sprinkled throughout every cobblestone corner. Breathtaking churches. I wanted to stop in every single one, and I still do. It blows my mind how humans built something so immaculate that is still standing.

We were not able to travel much still due to COVID, but we spent a lot of time visiting little villages and even some castles or “Schlösser,” primarily around Hessen. I felt lucky because it was like we had all the streets to ourselves. No tourists. Just endless, empty cobblestone streets. The only thing open was the Bäckerei, the bakery, which we visited often. The bread was fresh. It was almost like I had never really had real bread before. People say you do not gain weight on a trip to Europe because the food is healthier and you walk a lot. That might be true, but I ate so much during my first trip to Europe that my pants hardly fit when we got home. Every morning, we would have a “German breakfast,” which is pretty much just putting things on bread. Jam, mustard, and spreads, which I didn’t even know what they were—a kind of meat? And the rumors are true: lots of pretzels. I loved it.

One of my favorite discoveries was “Glühwein.” Hot, spiced, mulled wine that we would often sit outside in our coats and drink. There were no Christmas markets that winter, so we made our own at home. This has become one of my favorites; you can also find it throughout Europe, but nothing will ever taste as good as when I first tried it. I also tried a lot of Hessen foods; they were nothing my palate had experienced before: Rippchen mit Kraut: a type of pork chop, Kartoffelpuffer: a potato pancake dipped in applesauce or “Apfelmousse,” and lots of Frankfurters, sometimes with a Grüne Soße, or green sauce, which sounds delicious just thinking of it. A famous dish in the region: Handkäse or, even better, Handkäse mit Musik, which is one of the strongest cheeses I have ever tried. “With music” means it comes with onions and vinegar. I also had my fair share of German Schnapps and the Hessen-famous “Apfelwein.” If you are ever in the Frankfurt area, I recommend all of these!

At home in the US, we dined and dashed. We ate, but we did not savor the meals or the time spent together. Germany taught me something I did not know I was missing: meals are not just about eating. They are about connection, to the meal in front of you, to the years of culture and traditions behind it, and to the people you are sharing it with. Since my first trip to Europe, it has not only changed the way I see the world, but also the way I see food.

For the wedding, it was just a few of us in the city hall; it was intimate, and I felt privileged to be there. There was something so romantic about it all. They said their vows in the Rathaus with just a few close friends and family, and then we took a rainy walk together through a village I loved called Seligenstadt.

We returned home for champagne, or perhaps it was Sekt, and a German home-cooked meal, Rippchen mit Kraut. It all felt so simple. It made me realize that love does not always look the way that I imagined it. You do not need a big soirée with three hundred guests and a reception that costs as much as a car. We cut out little paper hearts and hung them throughout the kitchen. When I was there last, they were still hanging, and I wonder if they still are. It seemed as if getting married reignited the flame that had begun twenty years before.

We spent Christmas together shortly after that, continued drinking Glühwein, eating Christmas Gebäck and Plätzchen (cookies and baked goods), and on Christmas we ate goose with dumplings and red sauerkraut. We lit four Advent candles that month until we reached December 24th, which in Europe is the main event, whereas in the States we celebrate on the 25th. One thing that touched me was that on the night of the 24th, the family translated a Christmas song, “Weihnachtsbäckerei,” or Christmas Bakery in English, and we sang it all night.

Meeting the Mediterranean Sea

Toward the end of the trip and perhaps for a bit of a COVID honeymoon, we set off via Volkswagen Touran for a road trip to Croatia. We drove through Austria, where we stopped for an Austrian McDonald’s and saw a glimpse of the Alps, continued through Slovenia, and then finally, Croatia. We did have some trouble on the way back at the Croatia-Slovenia border, as they had questions about how and why an American was traveling about Europe during COVID. The border gave me a lot of anxiety. I think this experience traumatized me a bit, because now, when I go through a border, I get that same anxious feeling. But we eventually made it to the Mediterranean and back.

Their close friends owned a villa in Rogoznica. They were a German family with two girls who spoke perfect English, and the wife spoke perfect Croatian, as her parents were from there. I felt right at home with everyone. They were kind to me and treated me like I was a part of the family; they had no issue speaking English because I knew zero German. In fact, it seemed they were excited to practice their English with me.

Croatia was my second European country, unless you count McDonald’s in Austria. It was very quiet and windy, but it still felt like what I always thought the Mediterranean would be. The water was turquoise, and the roofs of the houses were orange-clay-colored. Our room had a view of the sea and the hill houses across the way. We ate a lot of fresh fish, drank a lot of wine, and spent time together, the two families and I. We did venture out of the villa to Split and Šibenik. I couldn’t believe I had seen bits of Roman ruins at Diocletian’s Palace and touched the toe of Grgur Ninski (Gregory of Nin) for good luck. I had never seen monuments so old.

Along with the octopus, one of my favorite things I tried was this sort of cornbread that is famous in Croatia, called Kukuruznice, Proja, or Kukuruznica. I would return to Croatia just for that alone. I also remember that in Croatia at that time, they had not switched over to euros yet, so when we went to the market for fish, we used the Croatian kuna to get around.

It was the beginning of January 2021; I remember seeing dolphins in the sea on that first day there. I have not returned to Croatia since, but I love the Mediterranean, and it is one of the top places on my bucket list to return to. I love the Mediterranean not just for the color of the sea, but for the colors of the crooked buildings: teal, pale pink, and yellow. Sometimes they are this gorgeous grey-beige stone that has stood strong for centuries. Green shutters, cats walking the alleys, and truly something magical.

Not the same part of the Mediterranean Sea I live on now, but it certainly sparked my love for it.

Building My Relationship with Europe

During that time, I thought I loved my college boyfriend. Our relationship was a bit rocky. I never felt secure, and I never fully trusted him. We argued often throughout our trips; we liked different things, and we had different goals. I loved his family. I loved the places we went. I loved the food, the villages, and the feeling of being somewhere so different from home.

Looking back at it now, I am not sure how much of what I felt was love for him and how much was love for the world I had discovered with him. I always knew I would travel to Europe; I just did not know the first time would look this way.

Once I went, it lit a fire in me. When I returned home from that first trip, I never felt the same. It truly changed me, and every day after, I craved Europe. It was practically all I thought about. I ended up returning with my college boyfriend one more winter and one summer.

When we returned to Germany the following winter, we celebrated Christmas; we drank Glühwein and ate lots of Hessian food. COVID was up and down. You had to show your vaccine card to go to some places, or at least wear a mask. We did not plan much outside of Germany, except that we visited the Allgäu, a mountain region in the German-Austrian Alps, for a ski vacation (not without our masks on the slopes). On a whim, we also visited Brussels and Amsterdam. I was considering going to the Netherlands for my master’s program and wanted to visit some schools in Leiden and Utrecht. They had lots of English psychology programs for a quarter of what they cost in the US. The streets were still, but many of the things I wanted to do, like visit the Van Gogh Museum, were canceled. It was quiet, but it only made me want to see all of Europe.

We returned the summer after my college graduation, and I knew it might be our last time there together.

But eventually, I made it to Paris.

And this was only the beginning. There was still Paris. Then France. Then, a life I never could have imagined when I first fell in love with Europe. Follow along for more. You can also find the series on Substack.