There’s no continent I’ve explored as thoroughly as Europe.
Reluctantly, at times, I’ll admit.
Yes, there was a time when I wasn’t excited by the prospect of travel in Europe. It was right when I first started travelling long-term, when the only countries that could hold my attention were the new and unfamiliar.
Europe? Yawn. I grew up in Europe. Too safe. Too normal. Too bland. Too boring.
As I grew older, I began to appreciate Europe.
I started to enjoy my trips there more than anywhere else; fall in love with the continent.
I even moved there, to Portugal first, and then to England. Before that, I had spent four months living in Granada, six weeks based in Madrid, and a month in Bologna.
And now, I can’t get enough.
I’m fortunate to have been to almost every country in Europe at this point in my life. I’ve been to 40 countries in the continent and… wait for it… 166 cities, towns, and villages. I’ve stumbled drunkenly through the streets of Paris and Berlin, sailed the coastline of Turkey and Greece, eaten my bodyweight in pasta in Italy, hiked in Switzerland, and been pelted by hailstones in Norway. I’ve walked the Camino de Santiago, toured Chernobyl, island-hopped around Croatia, and taken a hot air balloon ride in Slovenia.
I. Love. Europe.
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