Walking Metz: Stone, Glass, and Roman Floors

Written by: Mahir Daiyan Ashraf

Waking City (8:45)

Place de la République is still settling when our HTS 2084 group gathers beneath the Galeries Lafayette awning. Café chairs scrape across the paving, and the warm smell of the boulangerie wafts out each time the door swings open. Cyclists coast the square in easy arcs, and the clock on the courthouse roof keeps its patient time. We count heads, tighten backpack straps, and step into the morning with the city awake enough to notice us, but not yet in a hurry.

Cathedral (9:00)

Saint-Étienne Cathedral makes its case in height and glass. High Gothic here is a working grammar: pointed arches teaching the eye to rise, ribbed vaults turning weight into lines, and flying buttresses keeping the reach in equilibrium. Metz calls it La Lanterne du Bon Dieu—The Good God’s Lantern—because so much wall has been given to stained glass that daylight becomes part of the building’s meaning. Windows from the 13th to the 20th century set medieval blues beside modern work, including panels by Marc Chagall. The nave lifts to about forty-one metres, the third tallest in France, and that vertical space exists to serve the glass rather than to outshout it. Bands of colour fall across the pale stone and drift as the clouds move; a few people kneel in prayer; the soft shuffle of footsteps carries through the great hall and thins under the vaults.

In the crypt and treasury, the air cools, and the objects get specific: Saint Arnoul’s ring, a carved bishop’s crosier from the high Middle Ages, and a small group of gilt chalices and processional pieces that mark the city’s liturgical calendar across centuries. Labels fix each work to a workshop and a date, so the craft has a place as well as a name. Nearby, scale models of major French cathedrals show how ideas travel between places. Local memory keeps the Graoully in the frame too, the dragon Saint Clément is said to have banished from the Roman amphitheatre, so legend sits beside light and metalwork, and the cathedral reads as a record as much as it does a monument.

Underfoot (11:00)

The Musée de la Cour d’Or opens the Roman chapter beneath the streets. Long before the Gothic ridge of windows, Metz was Divodurum Mediomatricorum, and you can follow that name in the floor itself: brick piers of a hypocaust holding a once-suspended room, a blackened flue where hot air ran, a stretch of masonry that still suggests the curve of an apse. There is tableware in common clays and finer red terra sigillata, glass vessels with a faint sea-green cast, lamps, keys, weights, spindle whorls, and a patient line of coins that date rulers more reliably than memory.

The route carries you forward into rooms where early Christian and medieval pieces take over: fragments of sculpture, metalwork, and painted stone that show how older techniques were adjusted rather than discarded. What you feel, moving from one level to the next, is practical continuity. Heating, drainage, storage, and craft persist while the purposes change. Infrastructure survives, techniques migrate, and later life stands on earlier work from quite literally, made two millennia ago.

Second Acts (14:00)

After lunch by the Moselle, we visited three nearby churches.

Saint-Martin kept the parish scale and a clear backbone. Set along the old Roman ramparts, it mixed Romanesque weight with later Gothic openings, and it even lacked a traditional façade, drawing entry through the south transept instead. The effect read as weekly use more than display, a steady parish rather than a spectacle.

The Templar chapel gathered space into a compact octagon, built around 1180–1220 and singular in Lorraine. Its ribs met cleanly at the center, fresco fragments lingered on the walls, and the plan recalled the order’s network that once tied Metz to routes far beyond the city.

Saint-Pierre-aux-Nonnains reached furthest back. The building began in the 4th century as part of a Roman complex and became a church by the 7th, later serving as a Benedictine house before centuries of other uses and a modern restoration. Inside, the surfaces stayed plain and exact, the Roman fabric still legible beneath the Christian plan, which is why it is counted among the oldest churches in Europe.

Seen in one walk, the three made the point without fuss, continuity held through reuse, and new purposes took root without erasing the layer beneath.

Continuum

By late afternoon, the day held together on its own. We turned off toward a café, found a table by the window, and let the city settle while cups of coffee and hot chocolate steamed between our hands. Outside, Metz kept moving, older lines still visible beneath the new.

Monza

Written by: Mahir Daiyan Ashraf

On TV, Formula 1 looks fast, a tidy kind of fast, contained inside a frame. But at Monza, you feel it. The engines rattle your chest, every downshift thumps your ribs, and the world narrows to a blur of color as the cars fly by. I’ve watched this sport for years, but nothing prepared me for standing trackside at the Temple of Speed.

Our trip started in Milan: breakfast at Milano Centrale, a metro to Garibaldi, then a Trenitalia to Monza. With every stop, the carriage reddened. Caps pulled low, flags over shoulders, chants in Italian that rose and faded with the doors. Trains, buses, sidewalks, everywhere. A sea of Ferrari red. The closer we got, the louder it became. It felt less like heading to a sporting event and more like joining a pilgrimage. The tifosi were out in force.

Outside the station, thousands pressed into the line for the Black Shuttle to the circuit. We dodged the crush and took a regular city bus instead. Slower, but we could breathe. Even so, by the time we reached the gates the Formula 3 sprint was already over. Our first taste of action was Porsche Mobil Supercup qualifying, which shook the afternoon awake. Adel, meanwhile, tried an octopus burger and, after one brave bite, promised none of us should ever repeat it.

During a quick break we drifted through the infield past stalls stacked with merch. Under white tents, historic cars from the ’70s onward sat gleaming in the sun: long noses, wide tires, slow circles of people. When the music from the fanzone stage dipped, the crowd shifted. Free Practice 3 had begun. We hurried back to our spot at Variante Ascari.

The first flash of scarlet lifted the grandstands to their feet. Flags lifted, shoulders bumped, and the sound of cheers rolled over us like warm air. You could feel the tifosi’s love for the Ferraris. Then the F2 sprint delivered a perfect home script, Leonardo Fornaroli winning in front of his crowd. The place glowed.

Before qualifying we moved again. Robert had heard about a better angle past the old banking, so we followed the path under the trees until the historic curve rose in front of us. Seeing it in person was staggering, the tarmac rose nearly vertically; it felt impossible that cars ever raced on it. We pushed a little farther and found a perch beyond Ascari that looked almost straight down onto the modern track.

It was the perfect place to watch qualifying unfold. Q1, Q2, Q3. Through Q1 and Q2 the McLarens hunted purple sectors. In Q3, Lando Norris briefly took pole and, for a moment, the outright fastest lap in F1 history by average speed. Seconds later, Max Verstappen arrived and stamped a 1:18.792. New track record. Fastest lap in F1 history. The stands erupted, voices in a single chant: “Du du du du, Max Verstappen.”

Then the cherry on top, the historic parade. Machines from past decades rolled out. McLaren’s chrome-liveried MP4-22, early-2000s V10 screamers, cars that built eras. When they lit up, the tone changed, cleaner, higher, and people around us actually jumped. A Ferrari 312 B howled; a 412 T2 followed, the last V12-powered Ferrari F1 car, and grins spread in a wave. I filmed like everyone else, knowing the clips would never hold the heat in the air or the small hum that stays in your chest after a car is gone.

By the time the engines fell quiet, the sun was low. We let the slow tide carry us back toward town and found a small pizzeria called Al Poeta. Top three meals in Europe so far, no contest. What made it memorable was the boy taking our order. He was thrilled to practice his English with us, and his enthusiasm carried the same joy I had seen in the stands all day. After a day of deafening engines and a historic lap, that simple exchange was the perfect ending.

That’s the thing about Monza. It reminded me that Formula 1 is as much about people as it is about machines. The records, the speed, the legends matter, but so do the chants, the flags, the laughter of strangers. And in the middle of my semester abroad, standing in the Temple of Speed, it hit me: some experiences cannot be streamed or replayed. You have to be there.

Finding My Way in Metz

Written by: Mahir Daiyan Ashraf

Before leaving for Metz, I told myself I wouldn’t be nervous. After all, I’d already crossed an ocean to study in Atlanta, far from Dhaka. How different could this be? But as my departure date crept closer, the nerves started piling up. Balancing tough classes, cooking for myself for the first time, navigating buses and trains in a language I half-remembered, planning trips on the weekends, writing for this blog…it felt like a lot to shoulder at once.

By the time I walked through the airport, though, the nerves had dulled into something else, a quiet kind of determination. I’d done this before. I could do it again.

After a long layover in Bahrain, I finally landed in Frankfurt. The first thing I noticed? A food counter stacked high with bread and cheese. Somehow, that tiny image summed up Europe for me more than any welcome sign could. Soon enough, I found the other students at the meeting point, and we piled onto the shuttle. We stared in amazement out the window at the rows of wind turbines stretched into the horizon as the bus drove us toward Metz.

Kyler and I were dropped off first at ResidHome, since we were living away from the main dorms. Tugging our suitcases behind us, we made the most logical choice a pair of jetlagged students could make: instead of unpacking, we set off into the city in search of food (as well as the shrimp Big Mac Kyler was so desperately trying to get). We wandered aimlessly until we found a tiny place called MM Chicken Spicy. To our surprise, we actually managed to order in French and walked out with dürüms in our hands.

We wandered past colorful macaron displays, matcha packets stacked taller than my head, and storefronts that already hinted at how different daily life would be here. Then, in classic “day one abroad” fashion, we managed to board the wrong bus and got dropped off at the opposite end of Metz by a driver heading on break. Welcome to Metz.

The next morning was orientation. We were greeted by faculty, toured the Georgia Tech-Europe building, and were met by food trucks waiting outside. Classes started the following day, and life here began to take shape.

Now, mornings mean walking to the bus stop past Gare de Metz, watching locals carry baguettes tucked neatly into tote bags, the air filled with the smell of croissants and warm bread. At GTE, breakfast often includes pain au chocolat, croissants, and sometimes a jelly-filled donut whose name I still haven’t learned. In between classes, the student lounge thrives, buzzing with students, with mandatory breaks for table tennis and pool in between.

The C12 bus has become my favorite, mostly because it drops me closest to GTE (and because I’m lazy in the mornings). I’ve taken it so often now that the driver nods when I board, a small gesture that makes the city feel less foreign. Even the people at MM Chicken Spicy recognize me when I come in with friends, greeting us warmly. These little connections add a sense of belonging that I didn’t expect to find so soon.

Metz itself has kept surprising me. The city has a Gothic soul, cathedrals and arches that carry centuries of history, but it also feels alive, especially during events like the Mirabelle Festival. Metz’s golden plums are its pride, and for a weekend the whole city celebrates them. Streets filled with music and dancing, stalls offering jams and pies, children running around, and at night, the cathedral lit up in dazzling colors. Standing there in the crowd, it felt like Metz had opened a door for us, saying this is who we are.

GTE is already showing me that this semester will be unlike any other. The small classes make the community feel tight-knit—you quickly learn everyone’s name. But balancing academics with the responsibilities of daily life? That’s no joke. Cooking, traveling, managing logistics, and fumbling through conversations with locals who are patient but amused at my French stretch me every day. And yet, those very challenges are what make me feel like I’m growing.

Now that the first few weeks have passed, the nerves I carried here feel a little lighter. Yes, it’s a lot. But it’s also worth it. Between the smell of fresh bread on the way to class, the festivals lighting up the city, and the laughter that comes from bus mishaps and language slip-ups, like accidentally saying por favor instead of s’il vous plaît, Metz is becoming more than just my “study abroad city.” It’s the place where I’ll build routines, make mistakes, laugh about bus rides gone wrong, and maybe discover a few more festivals I didn’t know existed.

Georgia Tech-Europe is a small community, but that also means it’s a close one. Everyone knows each other, and everyone’s learning to manage life abroad together. The familiar nod of a bus driver. The light catching on old stone at sunset. The moments that feel fleeting but make a place stay with you.

And if the beginning is any sign, there are plenty more stories waiting to be told.

Why We Romanticize Old Tech in a Digital World

Written by: Mahir Daiyan Ashraf

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine pulled out a film camera during a weekend trip. It wasn’t some modern digital device dressed up to look retro; it was an actual 35mm film camera, complete with the satisfying click of the shutter and the roll of film waiting to be developed. Watching him take a photo, carefully framing the shot without the instant feedback of a screen, I found myself quietly fascinated. In a world where everything moves quickly, it felt oddly grounding.

I’ve been noticing it everywhere: film photography is back in style. Vinyl records are selling better than CDs. Mechanical watches, once seen as outdated, are now prized possessions. Even handwritten letters, something that should have disappeared with the arrival of email and texting, are quietly making a comeback among certain circles.

But why are we, a generation raised on smartphones and streaming, reaching for technology that is slower, clunkier, and, in many ways, less convenient?

I think part of the answer is hidden in that word itself: convenience.  

The digital world is designed for speed. Swipe, tap, scroll. Everything is instant, efficient, and optimized. Photos are snapped endlessly, stored in the cloud without a second thought. Songs play with a single voice command. Conversations flash across screens in blue and green bubbles.

And yet, for all this convenience, something feels missing—the life in it.

Old technology forces us to slow down. But more than that, it demands care and intention. Film photography makes you think before you shoot, knowing that every click counts. A roll of film is expensive. Each shot makes you pause, frame, and commit. A vinyl record demands your attention. You can’t shuffle tracks or skip ahead with a click. Writing a letter means sitting down, thinking about your words, and trusting that they will take days to reach their destination.

There is a kind of intention to it. A weight. A sense that what you are doing matters, even if only to you.

Maybe that’s why the imperfections of old tech feel less like flaws and more like features. Film photos with their grain and light leaks. The warm crackle of a vinyl record. The ticking of a mechanical watch that’s never quite as accurate as your phone. Interestingly, even film’s grain has a human touch: silver halide crystals are irregular in shape, so their texture feels organic and natural, unlike the rigid grid of pixels. These flaws remind us that the world isn’t supposed to be perfect. Life is textured. Messy. Human.

I’ve felt this myself. I still keep a physical notebook where I jot down thoughts and sketches. Last year, I switched to taking notes on my iPad, thinking it would be simpler. And it was. Everything tidy, synced, and searchable. But after a while, I missed the feeling of a pencil scratching across paper. Writing by hand felt slower, but also somehow more honest. Ideas took shape more naturally, and they stuck better when I physically wrote them down. There was no pressure to backspace and edit every sentence as I went. It felt more real. Maybe more human.

Even printed photographs carry that same weight. A few weeks ago, my mom unearthed a stack of old photos tucked away in a drawer: shots from my first birthday, my parents during their college years, my grandfather standing proudly in front of the small store he once owned. Their edges were worn, their colors slightly faded. But holding those moments in my hands felt different from scrolling through an endless camera roll. They were memories with presence, something tangible. Something that lasts.

And perhaps that’s what we’re searching for in these analog rituals: a sense of connection to something real. In a digital landscape where everything is designed to be smooth and efficient, physical objects give us something to hold onto.

It’s not just nostalgia for a past we never lived. Many of us who are drawn to these older technologies didn’t grow up with them. I’ve never used a rotary phone, and my first camera was very much digital. But I think it’s less about wanting to return to a specific time, and more about craving an experience we’ve never really had: depth in a world built for constant refresh.

There’s also something quietly rebellious about it. Choosing to shoot film, or listen to records, or write letters, is choosing to step outside the endless upgrade cycle. It’s saying no to the pressure to always have the newest phone, the fastest app, the latest update. In a way, old tech offers a break from the future.

I think about the photos we take today. Thousands of images, stored somewhere in the cloud, forgotten almost as quickly as they were taken. Compare that to a printed photograph—the way it ages, the way you can hold it in your hand, pass it down, frame it on a wall. There is permanence in that fragility. Once a digital photo is deleted, it’s gone. But a physical photograph carries a sense of presence, of memory solidified.

Even the visual aesthetic of the past has come back into style. The film grain effect is all over Instagram and TikTok, not because it improves image quality, but because it feels more real. More alive. Filters that mimic vintage cameras or scratched film aren’t attempts to hide flaws. They’re attempts to recreate warmth in images that otherwise feel too polished.

In the end, I think the resurgence of old tech is less about rejecting the modern world and more about finding balance within it. We’re not giving up smartphones or cloud storage anytime soon. But every now and then, reaching for something slower, something tactile, reminds us that life isn’t always meant to be optimized.

So maybe that’s why we romanticize old tech. Not because it’s better, but because it feels human.

And in a world obsessed with speed, choosing to slow down might just be the most radical thing we can do.

Chasing Stories Across Europe: An Introduction

Written by: Mahir Daiyan Ashraf

If you’d told my 10-year-old self—stuck in Dhaka traffic, face pressed to the window watching people go about lives completely different from mine—that I’d one day be heading to France to study, I probably would’ve laughed. That boy was curious, yes, but he couldn’t yet imagine the world being that close, that real.

And yet, here I am.

Bags packed, passport stamped, and a heart full of curiosity.

I didn’t grow up traveling abroad constantly, but I grew up learning how to observe. Whether it was during long drives through rural Bangladesh or afternoons in the local farmer’s market, my parents always reminded me to look closer, to ask questions, and to keep an open mind.

They believed that every person, every place, every plate of food carries its own story, and they taught me to listen to it. When we traveled within Bangladesh or nearby countries, we would go beyond tourist sites and into villages where we’d sit for community festivals or eat dishes we couldn’t pronounce. That’s how I first fell in love with travel, not just the physical movement from one place to another, but the cultural immersion. The little rituals, the stories in between, and above all, the people and the omnipresence of humanity.

Fig: Aarti ceremony at the Tal Barahi temple, Pokhara, Nepal

Fig: A family moment around a globe of light

(Also, that’s how I fell in love with Nasi Goreng in Singapore. Still undefeated in my book.)

As I grew older, I searched for more ways to explore cultures beyond mine. I picked up French in school and held onto it for three years, imagining one day I might visit France and speak it outside the classroom. But eventually, the emergence of COVID-19 put a halt to it.

That’s part of what drew me to the Georgia Tech-Europe program, returning to something I once loved.

GT-Europe feels like the perfect middle ground: an opportunity to continue my coursework while reconnecting with the French language and culture in an authentic, lived way. I get to wake up in Metz and walk through the very streets that once only existed in my textbooks. All while staying on track academically. As someone who values both structure and spontaneity, that’s a rare opportunity.

But beyond the language and the credits, what excites me most about this semester is the chance to slow down and notice.

I’ve always been drawn to moments that feel fleeting: the glint of sunset on old rooftops, the quiet rush of a train station before departure, the laughter of friends at a roadside tea stall (or tonger dokan, as we call it in Bengali). Maybe that’s why I found my way to photography, an attempt to hold onto the things that pass too quickly.

Fig: Tea shared with friends
Fig: Silhouettes at sunset, Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh

This fall, I want to chase those moments all across Europe.

I’ve already started planning with my friends:

  • Hiking in the Dolomites
  • Wandering through the streets of Vienna
  • Catching a glimpse of Aurora Borealis
  • Watching the Monza Grand Prix in Italy (I’m a huge Formula 1 fan)
  • Getting lost in cities I’ve never been to just for the joy of finding something unexpected

But even more than that, I’m excited for the everyday moments: the morning walks past a bistro, the quiet bike rides by the river, the language slip-ups that turn into conversation starters, perhaps sitting in a café, watching all the people passing by, each with a story to tell.

Through this blog, I hope to document both the spectacular and the simple.

You can expect photos, of course, plenty of them. From landscapes and architecture to little details I stumble upon. But I also plan to write about the contrasts I experience: between my life in Dhaka and Atlanta, and life in Metz, between comfort zones and adventures, between what I thought I knew and what I continue to learn. 

There may be stories about food, conversations with locals, spontaneous trips with friends, and even reflections on what it means to travel with intention as someone who never took that opportunity for granted.

In short: I want this blog to feel like a journey we take together.

Whether you’re a future GT-Europe student looking for tips, someone craving travel stories from your desk, or just a fellow curious soul, I hope you find something here to relate to.

One of my favorite quotes comes from a video I once watched: “You don’t need to go far to explore. You just need to notice what others overlook.”

That mindset has stuck with me. And while I am going far now, I’m hoping to keep that same spirit alive, one blog post, one photograph at a time.

Thanks for reading! I am excited to share my adventures with you.

Fig: Sunrise over the Himalayas
Fig: Courtyard reflections in Putrajaya, Malaysia
Fig: A quiet corner in Nepal
Fig: Sunrise from a hot air balloon
Fig: Hills in Bandarban, Bangladesh
Fig: A fisherman in Tanguar Haor

Introducing…Mahir! GTE’s Fall 2025 Blogger

Written by: Mahir Daiyan Ashraf

Salut! I’m Mahir, a second-year Computer Science major at Georgia Tech, and I will be studying at Georgia Tech-Europe this fall 🙂 

I’m from Dhaka, Bangladesh, a city that never slows down, a place where centuries-old Mughal forts rise behind rickshaw-filled streets, and where chaos and charm somehow coexist in a way that feels like home.

Growing up, I was lucky to travel often with my family, which sparked my love for wide-open landscapes and winding roads. That eventually led me to photography, trying to hold onto those small moments before they slip away.

This fall, I am excited to take that curiosity across Europe as I hike in the Italian Dolomites, wander through the Baroque streets of Vienna, maybe catch a football match in a city I’ve never been to. I’ll be sharing bits of it here through photos, stories, and the everyday things that catch my eye.

When I’m not behind a camera or on a train, you’ll probably find me playing guitar, watching Formula 1, or trying to relearn the French I picked up nine years ago. I also love spontaneous adventures with friends like taking the long way home, getting off at the wrong stop just to explore, or walking into a café for a mug of hot chocolate.

I’m looking forward to seeing where this semester takes me, and sharing the journey with you.

That’s All Folks! Parting Words and a Small Surprise

Written by: Alex Stallworth and Ashlyn Willis

As a final goodbye, we’ve decided to come together to create an exhaustive list of advice for surviving and thriving at Georgia Tech Europe! The program can definitely feel overwhelming at first, but after 10 weeks of trial and error, we’ve picked up a ton of knowledge that should make adjusting to life in France a whole lot easier. So, without further ado, here is essentially everything we wish we knew before we got here.

Do’s and Don’t’s: 

Living Situation and Shopping

  • Don’t try to get absolutely everything for your room the first time you go to the store, especially if you go to Carrefour, which is essentially French Walmart. My first Carrefour experience was not ideal in the slightest: I was very jetlagged, very confused because I don’t know how to read French, and very tired after I had to carry my large-ish haul on an over-25-minute walk back to my dorm. It’s best for your first visits to be small trips, just for the basics, then you can come back for larger items later, after you are more acquainted with the store. 
  • As for other stores, Normal is good for “around the house” items: think 5 Below, but with better quality. For food, the best options are Carrefour Express or Auchan, which are more like grocery stores than “everything stores”. 
  • Don’t exclusively buy in bulk, and that goes for both food and dorm items. That’s not to say that you should only buy small-scale items; just keep in mind that you will have plenty of time to go to the store throughout the semester, and it’s better to go back and get more of something rather than end the semester with a bunch of wasted food or product! 
  • Make sure you have enough room for souvenirs on the way back. I recommend putting aside an extra packing cube or leaving additional space in your suitcase for anything you may buy while overseas. 
  • Don’t buy a bunch of additional Tupperware or dishes if you are planning to cook or meal prep. You can do a lot with what is provided, and you can always clean and re-use store-bought containers, like jelly jars. 
  • The dryers in Europe are more energy efficient, but unfortunately, less effective, meaning that your clothes will likely still come out a bit damp. I recommend buying a cheap drying rack or a few hangers, either in addition to typical drying or as a substitute for it. 
  • Getting a haircut in Metz might seem a bit daunting, but a good strategy is to go to the barber shop with a collection of pictures of what you want, as English hair terms like “fade” or “taper” naturally don’t translate into French. The good news is that Metz is a pretty diverse city, so you can easily find a barber who specializes in your hair type. This was one of my biggest apprehensions before coming to GTE, but in my experience, the barbers here do pretty good work, usually for much less than it would cost in America. For someone with type 4 hair, I would recommend going to KAL Coiffure Metz or Kacy Afro Center. 

Academics

  • Do as much work as you can during the week. You may think it’s a good idea to do work either on a train or during free time on a trip, but that will probably lead you to being less productive. Some trains have wifi, but some don’t, and if they do, it is often slow or spotty. This goes for hotels and hostels as well. Moreover, unless you explicitly plan otherwise, it is very unlikely that you’ll have a lot of free time on the weekends that you travel on. And plus, you don’t want to be solving equations or writing essays instead of exploring a new city, do you? So, try to optimize the amount of work you get done during the school week, to avoid working on weekends as much as possible. (Make sure to explore Metz and hang out with friends on the weekdays when you can as well; time management is essential!)
  • Work in the GTE building when possible! Although I am someone who usually prefers to work alone in my dorm room when on the Atlanta campus, the GTE building has a much cozier vibe than many of GT’s academic buildings, making it much more appealing to work in, at least in my opinion. Besides that, the GTE building has something for everyone! Want a busier, CULC-like vibe? Study in the student lounge, where the majority of students find themselves throughout the day. Want some fresh air? There’s plenty of outdoor seating around the building, from benches to tables to hammocks. Want some peace and quiet? The GTE building has several study pods and a few quiet rooms throughout the building, which remind me of the 7th floor of Crossland Tower.

Travel

  • (For some tips and tricks about trains, visit Alex’s latest blog!) 
  • We highly recommend you purchase a Eurail pass for your time in Metz, as a 3-month pass is just $839, and for someone who has taken over 70 trains in 10 weeks, I have more than gotten my value back and then some. Even if you prefer to travel by plane, it still has some value, as Metz doesn’t have a major airport, meaning that if you want to fly anywhere, you first need to go to a different city (which will probably have to be by train). As for where to fly out of, you have a couple of options:
    • Luxembourg is the best place to fly out of. The airport is very easy to navigate, and the public transportation to get there is completely free. It’s also a hub for the region, so there are plenty of routes to and from the city. Finally, and best of all, security there is an absolute breeze to get through; the last time I was there, the line was literally non-existent. 
    • Brussels is your next best option. With the Eurail pass, it only costs 8 euros to get to the main airport. The secondary Charleroi airport is free to get to, although it is some 35 miles out from the city. Both airports are bigger than the Luxembourg airport, so there are more routes to and from the airport, at the cost of longer security lines. It also takes around 4 hours to get to either airport from Metz. 
    • Flying out of Paris is a bit tricky. Firstly, even with the Eurail pass, the cost of your round-trip will be anywhere between 20 to 40 euros more expensive, as you have to catch a TGV to get to Paris. Then, each Paris airport is 45+ minutes away from Gare de l’Est, and it of course costs money to get to each airport as well. Granted, Paris probably has the most plentiful flight options in Europe, but their air traffic controllers have a tendency to go on strike, which dissportationally leads to the cancellation of budget airline flights, which is something that a few of my friends have encountered over the semester.
  • On the topic of budget airlines, they are all very serious about their baggage policies, and they will fine you a lot of money if you violate them. It’s best to plan accordingly and measure your bag to make sure you are within the allowed dimensions before you go to the airport. 
  • To keep prices low, budget airlines usually don’t fly to “main airports” within a city. (i.e., going to London-Stansted instead of Heathrow or Paris-Beauvais instead of Charles de Gaulle). Most of these airports will have trains or shuttles to get to the main city, but they usually will cost something, so make sure to do some research before you get on your flight. 
  • Don’t wait for the last minute to plan or book things. It’s more expensive, more stressful, and you’re more likely to overlook something important at the last minute than if you planned ahead. That’s not to say that you should have your entire summer booked before you come to Europe, but booking things 2-3 weeks in advance can be quite helpful. 
  • Avoid short connections on trains as much as possible. On the Eurail app, you can set a filter to only show journeys with connections longer than 10 minutes. This is a good measure to take to lower the chance that your whole trip gets derailed, but more than likely, it will still happen, at least once. The best advice here is to be adaptable. Have a plan B or C for any long trip, whether that be another train that can still get you to your destination, or a bus that plays the same role. 
  • On that latter point, buses operated by companies like Flixbus or BlaBlaCar are quite good in Europe; they don’t have the negative reputations that companies like Greyhound have in the US, and they are actually the favored method of transportation among a lot of European young adults and teenagers. With that being said, buses usually won’t be faster or more convenient than taking a train, but it can be quite useful if you find yourself in a pinch, especially for an overnight journey.


General Advice and Information:

Items to Bring/Buy

  • Portable Charger/Adapter: Whether it’s an issue of trains and planes not having charging outlets, hiking in remote places, or not having the right plug for the charging ports (emphasis on Ireland, the UK, and Switzerland for this one), a portable charger can be a lifesaver!
  • Tote Bag: In Europe, most supermarkets don’t provide free plastic bags, meaning that you either have to buy your own plastic bag or bring a tote bag. Neither are particularly expensive: each plastic bag is maybe .30 euros, and you can get a tote bag for less than 5 euros, easily. But, it might be worth packing, considering that they are so light and take up virtually no space in a suitcase. 
  • Ziploc Bags: Super useful for getting through airport security with liquids (make sure your bag is no more than one litre to make things go more smoothly), as well as keeping things organized on trips. Also, I recommend bringing a separate bag to store your dirty laundry in for each trip, so that you can keep your clean clothes nice and fresh. 
  • Laundry Detergent Sheets: A personal favorite of mine, laundry sheets are not only more eco-friendly than most laundry pods; they also are lighter, take up less space, and are just as effective! You still can handwash your clothes with the sheets too, which is something you’ll probably do once or twice at GTE, as laundry does cost money, and sometimes, you just need a few things clean without doing a whole load. 
  • Travel Containers: Not all living situations on your trips will have shampoo or bodywash, let alone conditioners or other products. I recommend bringing travel-sized containers to fill up with your preferred hygiene products. 
  • Your Favorite Hygiene Products: On that note, I advise you to bring at least some of your favorite hygiene products to Metz. As we talked about before, it’s not a good idea to buy too much too fast for your dorm in Metz, and unsurprisingly, it’s a little difficult to purchase hygiene products that you may be fairly particular about in a language that you aren’t fluent in. I know a couple of people who bought the wrong products and had to eat the cost of it, so to try to avoid that, come with some of the more important ones. 
  • Shower Shoes: Most hostels have communal showers. While you may luck out and get a private bathroom, it’s best to bring shower shoes just in case. 
  • Towel: Most hostels and GTE dorms do not provide towels (although for the former, you can usually rent one for a couple of euros).  Plus, you probably will want one if your travels take you to a beach or a lake! While you can buy towels at Carrefour for less than 10 euros, if you have additional space in your suitcase, it is something that I would prioritize. 
  • Fan(summer): A majority of GTE dorms, and to a greater extent, buildings in Europe in general, don’t have air conditioning. The temperature may get up to a max of like 92 degrees over the entire summer, which doesn’t seem bad, but because of the lack of AC and the way European buildings are built, it will often feel warmer inside your room than outside your room. Although it’s only hot like that for a week, buying a fan can help that week feel much better. You can get a decent one from Carrefour for 20 euros or so, or pick one up from the GT donation drive when you arrive. The donation drive is a system that you get to partake in at the beginning of the semester,  where previous students leave unwanted supplies for the new students, which usually entails a lot of fans.

Items to Leave Behind

  • Hangers: Although you’ll need hangers for your room, hangers are inexpensive to buy and quite bulky to transport in your luggage, so you’re better off just getting them at Carrefour or the GT donation drive.
  • Lots of Shoes: You don’t need a lot of shoes. They take up a lot of space in a suitcase, and since you’ll be walking a lot, you don’t really have much need for athletic shoes. One to two pairs of walking shoes, the aforementioned shower shoes, and maybe a pair of sandals or slides should serve you very well.
  • “Just in Case” Items: Now, this one is a bit vague and can mean different things for different people. For me, it’s the extra books,  just in case I wanted to read, or the pair of gloves,  just in case I went somewhere extremely cold. As I pack up for the end of the semester, I look at the books and the gloves and sigh, as they never left my primary suitcase. While it is good to come prepared and limit buying more items that you could’ve brought from home, definitely make sure you are thinking twice about those non-essentials before you bring them.

Travel Locations

While everyone has different preferences and options, we have included some of the places we have visited and enjoyed! Europe is a huge and diverse place with so many countries and cities to explore, so don’t feel limited by just what the majority of people visit. The biggest piece of advice is to use this opportunity to explore what you want, whether that is just around the city of Metz itself or across the continent!

  • Amsterdam, Netherlands: A city with an interesting history, we recommend taking a boat tour on the canals, as you will be able to learn a lot of information about different parts of the country and city, with lots of fun niche facts. The stroopwafel there is absolutely delicious as well!
  • Interlaken, Switzerland: This is a great place to have a “home base” for a weekend if visiting Switzerland, as it is just a short train ride away to the more elevated villages of Grindelwald, Lauterbrunnen, or other good hiking towns, yet very accessible. (Note for popular hiking destinations in Switzerland: many towns are based in the valleys, so to do many mountain hikes and trails, you may often have to pay for a gondola ride up and occasionally back down a mountain if you want to avoid a very timely and strenuous additional hike upwards, which can sometimes be expensive.)
  • Luxembourg City, Luxembourg: While not a large city, the city of Luxembourg is a great place for a day trip! Although often overlooked just for being an area of connection for travel elsewhere, the old city area built into a fortress is a beautiful and green place that makes for a relaxing day of exploring. And once more, the public transit is completely free, which is a great bonus!
  • Vienna, Austria: If you like classical art and intricate buildings, Vienna is a perfect city for this vibe. It has a very regal feel to it, with many museums and lots of beautiful architecture to admire!
  • Bruges, Belgium: A very pretty and quaint city to visit. There are a lot of walkways along the canal as well as markets and shops to go through; it makes for a good day trip if you are staying in Belgium.
  • Edinburgh, Scotland: Although the UK is definitely more of a trek to get to than the mainland European countries, Edinburgh is an absolute gem to lovers of an academia vibe, history, and mystery. It is a beautiful city with Gothic architecture everywhere, and it is built in the valley of steep hills stretching to the sea, making for lovely scenery and hiking opportunities as well. If visiting Scotland for longer, taking a tour of the Highlands and lochs is also recommended!
  • Florence, Italy: Definitely a popular choice and justifiably so, Florence is another hub for art and overall beauty. There are so many museums and historical points to see in the city, and the food is absolutely spectacular.
  • Marseille, France: If you want to visit more of France, Marseille is an interesting and unique city to visit! Being a port city so far South, it has a completely different vibe from Paris and other cities in France, and has a beautiful coastal area along with lots to explore.
  • London, England: Between West End shows, sporting events, the copious amounts of museums, and the most famous monarchy in the world, London is the perfect place to go for an action-packed weekend. 
  • Budapest, Hungary: Although a bit far from Metz, Budapest is one of the cheaper cities in the EU, with a charming beauty from the dual influences of Western and Soviet architecture.

And…well, that’s it! Thank you for reading along. We hope that our blogs have been helpful, inspirational, or made the decision to sign up for GTE just a little easier. While we may sound a bit irritated while discussing some of these topics, these are just some growing pains with being abroad. Trust us, GTE is an absolutely amazing experience that we would both do again, 10 out of 10 times. 

Now, for a bit of a surprise. You may be wondering, “Why are both of the bloggers working on one post?” Well, that’s actually because we are quite good friends outside of work, and we have traveled together on a lot of the weekends during this semester!

(Ashlyn, Alex, and Friends atop Arthur’s seat in Scotland)


With that being said, this is Ashlyn and Alex signing off for the final time. Au revoir!

Traveling Europe by Train: Tips, Tricks, and Advice

Written by: Alex Stallworth

One thing about GTE is that you will become really familiar with the European train system, really fast. In just 56 days, I’ve been abroad 65 of them, and at this point, I think I can finally claim to know a thing or two, to say the very least. Here’s what I’ve learned through trial (and a lot of error). 

During your time at GTE, you can opt to purchase a Eurail pass. This pass will allow you to book trains throughout Europe. However, this comes with a few caveats that you need to be aware of.

1. Seat Reservations: 

To start, not every train is free. Some trains require a seat reservation to board, usually high-speed trains, night trains, and trains that run routes that are in high demand. Seat reservations range in price, from the Normandy Railroad, which costs around 2 euros, to the TGVs in France, which cost an average of 20 euros. 

1a. Buying and Using Seat Reservations:

The Eurail app will usually let you view the price of a seat reservation, but you can’t actually buy them there, and often, the list price is inaccurate. While you can buy the seat reservations on your phone’s browser or at kiosks in train stations, it’s a lot easier to do it on a laptop and send the tickets to your email. Finally, you will also need to load your ticket in the Eurail app, alongside the seat reservation, to pass the on-train ticket inspection. I place emphasis on this because, in my experience, the train agents get a little cross with you if you mess up some part of this process, so it is best to have everything prepared before you board.

1b. The UK:

The Chunnel, the longest underwater tunnel in the world that connects the UK and France, has always fascinated me as an engineering marvel. However, getting to the UK via the Chunnel is a bit tricky. To start, seat reservations on Eurostar, the company that operates routes to and from the UK, run around 32 euros, which are the most expensive single-seat reservations that we have encountered with the Eurail pass. Then when you account for the fact that most Eurostar trips will require you to go to Paris first, this results in an over 100 euro round trip. A bit pricey, sure, but the real problem comes in booking the seats. 

Sometimes, Eurostars will sell out, and fairly far in advance, too. For a future trip to London, which I tried to book some 20 days in advance, I was unable to find a single train to take me back to Paris. This is more of a symptom of most of the UK and Europe taking holiday at the end of July and early August and not some broader issue, but it was still pretty frustrating to deal with at the time. Luckily, there are other options to get to and from the UK, from flights to ferries, which are also often cheaper than taking the train. 

2. Seat Reservation Optional Trains: 

There are also seat reservation optional trains, which are usually found in Germany and some of the surrounding countries. These trains can be reserved like the ones listed above, but they will also have a number of open seats. The number of seats that are reserved depends on the route’s popularity and its length, with longer trains having more seats reserved as more people hop on throughout the journey. 

Not reserving a seat is a bit of a risk; sometimes, the train is relatively empty, and you can easily get a seat with your friends. Other times, you aren’t so lucky, and you might wind up separated, or worse, without a seat entirely. The gamble is often worth it; I’ve been on 15 or so seat reservation optional trains, and I’ve only had a seating issue, and a mild one at that, once or twice. However, it’s best to evaluate each train situation based on the factors that I listed above, as well as your personal comfort. 

3. Be Ready For Anything:

Traveling by train is a bit of a different dynamic than traveling by plane. I would say that maybe 90% of the trains I’ve been on have been exactly on time when leaving or arriving at a station, and when they are delayed, it’s usually by ~10 minutes. However, things can still happen. Natural disruptions to the actual train tracks aren’t uncommon, whether it be via landslide or some other force. These will shut down a track for an extended period of time, requiring a diversion. It’s far more common to see strikes, although they are usually resolved in less time, and they’re often scheduled, so travelers can plan around them. 

Regardless of the cause, the biggest issue with these types of disruptions is making your connections. Longer train trips will often involve 3, 4, or 5 different trains, leaving more of a possibility that something may go wrong and derail your trip. While your train’s punctuality is out of your control, you can control the length of your connections. I advise you to only pick journeys that come with a 15-minute or longer transfer time. As stated above, most delays are relatively short, so that extra cushion should serve you well. It has worked wonders for me: as of writing, knock on wood, I haven’t missed a single train in Europe yet. 

While all this information may seem daunting, in reality, it really isn’t that bad. I came into GTE with very limited knowledge of how the trains work, and within 2-3 weeks, I had a pretty stable grasp of it. To be honest, learning along the way was just part of the adventure, and it’s something I don’t regret in the slightest. 

Art Beyond the Frames

Written by: Ashlyn Willis

One of the most rewarding parts of studying abroad through Georgia Tech Europe has definitely been how the weekends offer a constantly changing backdrop for adventure, learning, exploration, and more. Each place has its own charm and tempo. I have experienced countless breathtaking moments from cathedrals in Bratislava to grand parliament buildings in Brussels. But two in particular in my experiences so far have made a definite impact in my memory. Vienna, Austria, and Florence, Italy struck me for the thing that felt as if it was ingrained in their very stones–art. In these two cities, art does not just exist inside museums;  it flows throughout the structure and culture of the palace itself. On every wall, around every corner, it is embedded in the very way life seemed to be designed there.

Both cities felt like walking through a living museum. In Vienna, I was not just taken aback by the quantity of beautiful architecture, but how detailed it all was on seemingly every other building. St. Stephen’s Cathedral and the City Hall, for example, are absolutely awe-inspiring in both size and detail. They are definitely Gothic masterpieces, with towering spires reaching straight up to the sky. Even beyond its landmarks, Vienna’s everyday cityscape felt like a celebration of some sort of grand ornamentation. Whether it was the embellishments carved into public buildings, golden adornment and filigree in shopfronts, or the way the street gates curved gracefully, everything had a certain elegance that felt like the city was designed by artists, for artists. It made perfect sense that this was the home of Gustav Klimt, a workplace of Mozart, the subject for Billy Joel’s classic song, and so many more.

Images of Vienna City Hall and St. Stephen’s Cathedral

With Florence, the city felt like an art piece itself. Walking through its streets could have very well been like travelling back in time to a visual scene of the Renaissance. The Duomo looks like a bold painting come to life, with its intricate green and pink marble pattern and a dome too impressive to be real. I was constantly swiveling my head around just to take in the buildings and their terracotta-looking rooftops all around me, all decorated with some kind of flourish, whether subtle or bold, be it a statue, a fresco, or some ornate doorway. Florence definitely does not let people forget it was once the heart of an artistic revolution. I think what I loved most was how naturally the art felt embedded into the city. It wasn’t just limited to its impressive galleries like the Uffizi; rather, walking out of this museum felt like I was just stepping into a larger exhibition. It was the way the simple alleyways opened up into the sunlit piazzas, where artists were in markets selling drawn sketches, and the way at sunset golden rays complemented the sandy tones of the city’s skyline from the Piazzale Michelangelo.

Images of the Uffizi Gallery, a view of the Florence rooftops, and the sunset at Piazzale Michelangelo

What struck me in both cities was that art was not treated as something separated from regular life to be only admired in the isolated pockets of museums and showcase attractions. Rather, it seemed to be a part of life, with people walking past sculptures and ornate buildings all around. I realized in reflecting on my time in these two cities, as they have stuck with me so heavily, how much I love that blend of old and new, of beauty and function, of history and casual life. My classes this summer have definitely helped me to appreciate these layers with connections in what I have been learning about and what I have experienced in each city. In many ways, Vienna and Florence have helped me deeply appreciate the importance of the arts and how important they are to history as a whole. However, this is not limited to just these two cities, as everywhere I have been so far has had its own form of incomparable beauty. There is so much to appreciate in how each city, each town, each place, something I am greatly thankful to be able to experience in such a way.

A Journey to the South

Written by: Charles Stallworth

A little bit of a fun fact about GTE: your weekends will vary in length throughout the semester! While the usual weekend lasts three days, you’ll also have a couple of four-day and two-day weekends sprinkled into your schedule. Naturally, where and for how long you travel to a destination is heavily dependent on the length of the weekend, and being aware of this information beforehand is very important to planning your trips successfully. If you can’t already tell, I’m speaking with the benefit of, at this point, over a month of hindsight. Here’s a tip: If at all possible, plan your trips, at least in some part, before you arrive in Metz. Trust me, it will save you a lot of time and future headaches. On a completely unrelated note, let’s talk about my recent and entirely spontaneous solo trip last weekend.

An Idea Becomes Reality

Toulouse, France, plays host to a number of Airbus’s final assembly lines for many of their aircraft, including the A320, A330, and A350, as well as their corporate headquarters. As an aerospace engineering student, the city was naturally on my shortlist of places to visit while in Europe, but due to a number of extenuating circumstances, my odds of making this a reality dwindled as the trip became more complicated. First of all, Toulouse is quite far from Metz, with the shortest trains taking around 8 hours. Second of all, it just isn’t a city where there is enough to do to justify it being the sole objective of a 3-day weekend. Finally, and most crucially, the Airbus experience in Toulouse is quite popular, with it being fairly difficult to acquire last-minute tickets. 

But last weekend, the stars aligned. A canceled class. A short weekend. A night train that could double as both my lodging and transportation. And the kicker? The only ticket left for the Airbus experience over the next two weeks was at 3 pm, on that Saturday, in English. I didn’t have any excuses left not to make this happen, so I booked the tickets on Thursday evening and headed for Paris the following afternoon. 

To get to Toulouse, I had to change trains in Paris; however, due to my canceled class, I had around 7 hours to kill in the city. I made the most of this time by visiting the Louvre. 

The Louvre? The Labyrinth.

The Louvre might just be the most absurd place I’ve ever been to. The museum is absolutely massive: I’d argue that if you wanted to walk through every inch of the place without looking at a single work of art, you’d probably be in there for a good hour at the minimum. It almost feels like a labyrinth, with its sheer size and scale becoming more apparent the further you venture into it. With that being said, even with all of that space, it still felt quite crowded in the museum; I’d guess that it could hold the population of a mid-sized football stadium during any given visit.

(The Mona Lisa, a lot smaller than you’d probably expect it to be)

(A mosaic from within the Islamic Art Exhibit at the Louvre)

(An exploded view of a pot, from within the Chinese Art exhibit at the Louvre.)

At first glance, you may assume that I view these absurdities negatively, but it’s actually quite the opposite, as it just added to the majesty of the experience. There’s just something surreal about walking around a beautiful palace, surrounded by 35,000 of the finest artistic pieces in human history, while in a crowd of thousands of strangers speaking dozens of languages. If that’s not what the international experience is all about, I don’t know what is. 

Anyways, here are 3 tips I picked up while visiting the Louvre. 

  1. Order your tickets ahead of time. Despite its size, the Louvre does in fact have a maximum occupancy, and on busy days, museum officials will turn away people seeking walk-up tickets. Prevent this from happening by buying a ticket ahead of time on their official website. 
  2. Get there early. Although it is very difficult to see the entirety of the Louvre in one day, you can still see a good amount of it if you get the earliest ticket slot possible. Getting there early will also give you plenty of time to take as many breaks as needed in the museum, integral to having a good experience. 

Enter through the Carrousel du Louvre. There are two ways to get into the Louvre: the pyramid in the courtyard, and the Carrousel du Louvre, a nearby shopping mall that connects to the space under the pyramid. The Carrousel just makes things a whole lot easier, as the lines are significantly shorter, and you also get to be inside, not exposed to the surprisingly hot Paris sun.

After leaving the Louvre, I spent a lot of time roaming the streets of Paris. I’ve found that wandering around without a specific goal in mind really allows you to get a feel for the different neighborhoods in a city, giving a more relaxed and authentic view of what the city is actually like. Plus, it is so rewarding to find a hidden gem, whether it be a restaurant or some other type of shop, by yourself, and not because of some internet recommendation. 

Getting There: A Night Train Experience

Eventually, it was time for me to head to the station and board the train to Toulouse. This was the part of the journey that I was admittedly pretty concerned about. This train was set to leave Paris at 10 pm and arrive in Toulouse at 7 am. I am no stranger to sleeping upright, but doing it two nights in a row was a bit daunting. Also, since I was traveling alone on a train that required seat reservations, I had no idea, nor could I control where I was sitting, or who I was sitting next to. I am pretty tall (around 6 ‘3), so a bad draw in either seating location or seatmates could doom me to a pretty uncomfortable night. While this wasn’t something that would make or break my trip, I was still pretty cognizant of it while I was on my way to the station. So, you can imagine my sheer joy when I got to the car and saw nothing but bunks.

(A Sleeper Car on the Intercities Night Trains.)

The bunk wasn’t overtly impressive, consisting only of a couch-like twin mattress, a thin sleeping bag, and a small pillow, but for what I expected, I was more than pleased with this. I slept soundly throughout both train rides. 

Time for Toulouse: Planes and Processes

When I arrived in Toulouse, I headed straight for the Musée Aeroscopia for my tour of the Airbus factory. The tour made the entire journey there more than worth it. Walking through the factory and hearing all of the detailed explanations of the Airbus assembly processes was a really insightful experience. The only downside of the tour was that we weren’t allowed to take any pictures inside the factory itself, which was a bit of a bummer, but understandable. 

On a more positive note, we did get to see 3 of the 6 active Airbus Belugas at the factory; we even got to watch one come in to land. That plane is something remarkable, so goofy-looking yet so grand; the experience made my day. The museum itself was also packed with a lot of cool things to see, from Concorde to a plane from every generation of Airbus aircraft. Eventually, my time at Aeroscopia came and went, and after spending the rest of my afternoon galavanting around Toulouse, I found my way back to the station, back to Paris, and back to Metz. 

(One of the Airbus Belugas, taken from inside the tour bus)

(Concorde)

(Airbus A340-600)

And thus concluded my solo trip. Was this an amazing experience that I’m still excited about, even now? Yes, of course. Am I excited to do another solo trip? Well, let’s just say that I’m putting a pause on that idea for the foreseeable future.