The Romance of Europe One Moment at a Time

Allie Smith, Chris Strohofer, Chris Risser, and Melanie Baumann at the Sir Walter Scott Monument in Edinburgh, Scotland.  (Photo courtesy of Allie Smith)

I have to admit, as soon as I received the news that I was accepted into the UCBA British Study Abroad program, most of my free time (and even my not-so-free time) was occupied with romanticized daydreams about European living. 

I imagined it to be an elusive, romantic hub full of creative ideas, delicious food and brilliant people.  I envisioned beautiful, well-dressed women sipping cappuccinos on café sidewalks with equally dapper men peering at them affectionately from across the table.  Couples would stroll hand in hand peacefully along the Seine under the alluring light of the moon. 

I imagined romance and luxury and a place where people lived as if they had all the time in the world, and they intended to spend every minute of it enjoying themselves.

In short, it was everything I had imagined it would be.  I firmly believe that every locale has its own unique atmosphere, a sense of self, and I fell absolutely head over heels in love with everything European. 

It truly is a place whose inhabitants take the time to savor and appreciate every moment they experience.  Coming from a society that constantly reinforces the idea of hard work and achievement, it was a bit unnerving to be thrown in the midst of one that stresses simply enjoying the here and now.  

It’s a concept I’ve often struggled with, taking the time to truly appreciate the moment that I’m experiencing as I’m experiencing it. 

But it is a refreshing notion nonetheless, and what better place to embrace that philosophy than Europe—particularly Paris?  It has allowed me to enjoy the little things, even something as simple as a perfectly brewed latte that I would normally guzzle without batting an eye at home. 

I whiled away the evenings drinking in pubs with Londoners.  I spent an afternoon scaling a long-dormant volcano in Scotland.  I dined on fresh crepes as I watched the sun sink below the Eiffel Tower.  

I went for afternoon strolls along the Thames and feasted on fresh macaroons and espresso after traipsing up and down the Champs-Elysees. 

I stood close enough to Monet’s work to distinguish the minutiae of brush strokes in his famed water lilies.  I skulked through the dank corridors of a centuries-old necropolis.  And, in true Sue Sipple fashion, I even managed to snag a selfie in front of the Mona Lisa.

All of these are the little things that will probably begin to fade as the years pass, but I appreciated every single moment I spent there, even the ones spent toting my luggage across countless blocks of uneven cobblestones and sprinting to catch a Eurostar I would inevitably miss.  

I appreciated them because they were experiences that were happening to me, right then and there, and I would likely never experience again.  I might forget the details of the little things, but I’ll never forget the way that they made me feel.  And after all, isn’t that the point of experiencing anything?