Two of my friends returned to Atlanta for the fall semester with stories from their time abroad. Both had gone to France for a summer semester, Zach in Metz and Lilly in Lyon. I loved hearing about their travels. From Charli XCX DJ sets to sunbathing in the south of France, the stories excited me. By the time I returned to Atlanta in August, my friends knew I was leaving for Metz that Spring. Some had advice for living in Europe while others had recommendations for travel.
My friends Maddie and Baran both expressed interest in going to Georgia Tech-Europe in the spring of their sophomore year, so we all planned to go together. Baran was adamant we plan every weekend ahead of time. We created a Google Doc with a list of every weekend. Slowly, we assigned each weekend a travel destination.
If someone asked where I would go in Europe, I pulled up our Google Doc on my phone and flipped it around. Initially, they would gawk, warning me that I would become exhausted. I understand the concern. However, I usually responded with “Probably, but we can figure that out when we get to that point.”
These conversations came with advice I found entertaining and useful.
“Germans think Americans are really funny, even if you aren’t trying to be.”
“Sightseeing in Spain is beautiful until your phone gets stolen.”
“Ask for a pitcher of water rather than a glass of water in France.”
These conversations also brought some critiques from what weather would look like, or how long it would take to get to our travel destinations. At some point I wanted to ask, “why can’t you let me suffer on my own?” It was hard to keep all of the conflicting warnings straight, so I opted to make my own mistakes. I wanted most of my journey to come from my own accord, or at least from a place so deep down I can’t see who shaped it.
For so long, I avoided talking about studying abroad to stay present in my first semester, but when I landed in Montana, I couldn’t keep my mind off of France. As I made my lunch, I thought about the foods I would eat. As I went to the gym, I thought about how I would continue weight training. What skin care items would local stores provide? Could I find my favorite snacks? Despite my worries, I was interested in arriving so I could discover the answers to my questions.
The first two weeks in Metz were exciting and exploratory. Students are given a studio apartment to live in with a personal bathroom and kitchenette*. The kitchenette provides a stove and microwave with an assortment of cooking pans and utensils. The interiors of the apartment buildings are completely monochrome: lime green, red, orange, and yellow. It’s eerily similar to Squid Game.
The GTE building is the size of a small high school, and the environment is similar to one. I usually see the same groups of people in my classes and in the cafeteria. Breakfast and coffee are provided in the lounge every morning. The lounge is where you can find students studying, playing pool, or practicing piano. Lunch is also provided by the school but is through the neighboring high school. Just like high school, you grab a tray and slide down, receiving a plate and side to go sit with the high schoolers in their own cafeteria. The process brings a special case of nostalgia.
Although I am grateful for the opportunity to travel and live in the center of Europe, I can’t say I don’t miss home. Finding reasoning is useless when all the “bad” comes with infinite good, so I’ll say I’ve come down with a case of homesickness. I try to find hints of familiarity in Metz every day. Maybe the cold nips in the same way it did when I walked around campus late at night. I took a walk late last night around Lac Symphonie, and I can’t say it feels like North Avenue. Soon, this new norm will settle into place, and these cold foggy mornings will feel more friendly.
*Dorm situations vary between Fall/Spring and Summer semesters at GTE
My flight from Billings to Dallas was filled with the Navy and Gold of the Montana State Bobcat fans. It was the FCS championship for the beloved Montana football team. They played North Dakota State in Frisco, Texas the next day. Thus, I was met with some familiar faces from high school while walking down the aisle. Flying out of Montana, the cabin was filled with white light. The snow was the best gift I could have received from the holiday season: I hadn’t seen it since the last. My small flight didn’t let me miss my home.
I landed in Dallas at 11:00am. Zach, GTE summer program alumni and one of my closest friends, texted me that his flight from Dallas to Frankfurt was delayed eight hours when he came to GTE. I jokingly replied that I would find a way to spend the time. However, my six-hour layover was already too long.
When my flight was delayed the first time, I was excited to have similar landing times to my friends Maddie and Baran. When it was delayed the second and third time, I could still make the last shuttle provided by GTE. When it was delayed the fourth, fifth, and sixth time, I desperately needed a friend. I scanned the area, convincing myself that I had seen all the nineteen- and twenty-year-olds somewhere around campus. Before I started approaching everyone with “Do you go to Georgia Tech?” I texted the GroupMe to see if anyone would reveal themselves first. Aarush let me know that he was with two others on the same flight. I found Aarush, Manish, and Jacob at our new gate.
I swore a more familiar face walked by. I was determined to find everyone that I could, so I broke away to test my theory – am I delirious, or is that someone I recognize? “Do you go to Georgia Tech?” was met with a yes when I saw Juan just past the gate. He introduced me to Ray who had been waiting in Dallas even longer than I had. The three of us sat at a charging station for an hour finding ways to get to Metz from Paris. I hoped I could figure out European transportation with Maddie and Baran when we planned our first trip in France. Instead, I had to learn in a heavy haze of stress.
I was concerned about my bags. I had two large, 50lb suitcases waiting for me at baggage claim. I wore a long-sleeved top, sweater, and jacket on the plane to save space, but the copious layers created uncomfortable warmth, so I always ended up carrying one or the other. I also had my backpack, filled to the zipper with makeup bags, electronics, and other random items. It was so full it could barely fit under the seat in front of me on my first flight. And for my personal item, a neck pillow from my dad. I was constantly carrying two or more items along with twenty pounds on my back.
Alex, who was arriving in Paris around the same time we were, sent us the information for a train she booked. This led us to ditch the car rental idea and the $500 taxi idea for tickets for the same train. On the SNCF website, we could search for trips from the Charles de Gaulle airport to Metz Ville. The options that came up provided us tickets to trains and connecting buses, so we didn’t have to figure out the connection on our own.
Ray, Juan and I sat on the ground at our oddly small gate when Aarush, Manish and Jacob found us. We all bought a €70 ticket for a 5:30 train and 6:40 bus when priority boarding started. The process was simple–we entered our payment information, and it gave us QR codes that acted as our tickets.
The most exciting part of the plane was the plane meals (sorry Juan). I had never been on a long enough flight to have eaten a meal, and the meals meant we were finally getting closer to Metz, and I was finally out of that airport. Eating the plastic-packaged bread almost brought me to tears.
Immigration only took ten minutes, and getting our bags was calm and simple. The five of us tried to learn French from those around us while Aarush asked why his bag wasn’t at the carousel. It took an hour for support to tell him his bag somehow never made it on the plane (the one we waited more than five hours for). It’s nightmare after nightmare.
Getting our bags onto the train was also nightmarish. We were the last ones entering the car, meaning there was not much room for our belongings. Manish and I attempted to rearrange the bags of French passengers while they stared. Jacob ended up going to the cabin above to find more space. After we got to our seats, I stared blankly ahead without my headphones on to stay aware of the people around me. I was already so embarrassed from before; I wanted to collapse into my seat for the hour long ride. The least I could do was focus on staying silent and still.
We arrived at Lorraine on our toes as we had less than 10 minutes to make the bus to Metz Ville. Rushing out of the car, we were met with a long, cement staircase leading up to the bus stop. I only carried one of my bags up the stairs (thank you Aarush), more than enough to leave me more exhausted than before. Straight through the station was our bus to Metz. Getting our bags into the bus was similar to the train, especially for me. We rearranged existing bags and shuffled around to make sure everything fit (thank you Ray). My legs are still purple with bruises from kneeling on the ground.
The bus ride was the most calming transport of the evening. It was only a quarter full, and it lasted around 40 minutes. The seats were comfortable, and the inside was warm. Getting off the bus, we were placed too far from our dorm to walk but too far out of the city to get distracted by a pleasing view.
The easiest way to get to campus was an Uber. We knew that our bags might cause issues, so Aarush called the first Uber while we decided who would go where. The first Uber came, a Tesla, and the driver arranged the bags inefficiently in the trunk. This left Manish with his small suitcase at his feet in the front seat while Aarush and I sat in the back with our backpacks in our laps and two carry-ons in between us. One of my suitcases was in the car, but the other was left behind with the others. We awed at the purple streetlights and the French architecture of the street side buildings during our ride.
In front of the Lafayette dorms, I was slightly more grateful for the journey than annoyed. I learned a lot about European transportation before crossing the ocean, and I made great friends along the way.
Written by Katherine Sanders – Spring 2025 Blogger
As I embark on my journey across Europe, I’m excited to dive into three important aspects of my life and share them through a new lens.
FOOD
From Turkish Baklava to German Schnitzel, I plan to document the culinary wonders of every country I visit. My coverage won’t stop at the most popular dishes, but delve deeply into the most nutritious, colorful, and fulfilling meals each country holds. Exploring new countries takes lots of energy, and I take pride in properly nourishing myself for each adventure.
EXERCISE
If it’s pilates in a park in Milan or nifty fitness hacks in Metz, I am determined to maintain my strength even when living out of a suitcase. My goal is to prove that balancing exploration and exercise is not only possible but can add a whole new dimension to the travel experience.
FASHION
I hope to keep GT Wears lively off campus by covering the most innovative fashion trends I see. I want to hear all about the ideas behind what Tech students wear for their travels to guide prospective students’ packing plans. When I step into fashion hubs like Paris, Milan, or Berlin, absorbing the fashion choices of locals and their intentions behind them is my main goal.
I’m so excited to share everything about my passions and so much more on this four-month adventure!
Hello! My name is Katherine Sanders and I am a second year Computer Science major at GT! I was born and raised in Montana, where my love for travel was shaped by a childhood spent seeking adventure and exploring new landscapes. During my semester in Metz, I want to take a different route: sit back and absorb the aesthetics.
If you’ve ever been approached by a stranger who asked some questions about your outfit, chances are it was me! I currently write for Technique’s GT Wears section, catapulting me out of my comfort zone. While the experience has been daunting, it hasn’t tarnished my love for the subject–I learn so much about how students’ backgrounds intersect with their everyday style.
GTE’s Recommendation:Check out some of Katherine’s work for Technique
Recently, I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a student concert in downtown Metz. I learned about the event through my professor, who leads the French program I’m part of, and she encouraged all of us in the program to go together. Naturally, I was super excited about it. The entire group met up with our professor beforehand for some snacks and conversation, which was such a great way to start the evening. The concert itself was scheduled to begin around 8:30 p.m., and it felt so refreshing to get dressed up for something special and actually get out of the dorms for a change.
All of the students in our group took the bus down to the city center, where we met our professor. It was so nice to see her in a non-classroom setting. She’s actually a super sweet lady, and I really enjoyed getting to know her better. We chatted about her kids, her passion for teaching, and how our program connects French language learning with climate change. It’s rare to connect with professors on such a personal level, and it made me appreciate her even more. Before we knew it, we were walking across Republic Plaza to the concert hall, which sits right along the beautiful Moselle River. The setting was stunning, especially as the city lights reflected on the water.
We arrived about 20 minutes before the concert began, and the atmosphere was electric. I could feel the excitement building as students poured into the hall. I also forgot to mention that this was a free concert for all students in the Metz area, which made it even more incredible. The hall was absolutely packed—I’d guess there were about 1,000 students in attendance, and every seat in the massive venue was filled. It was also really cool to see other students from GTE (Georgia Tech-Europe) there, representing our program.
When the concert finally started, the entire audience gasped with surprise as the 25-year-old conductor walked onto the stage. He was clearly decorated and well-respected, and there was something magnetic about his presence. He led the orchestra into the first movement of Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony, and it was breathtaking. The music began with a powerful, ominous fanfare from the brass section that immediately grabbed everyone’s attention. I’ll admit, at the time, I didn’t know anything about the piece or what to expect—I’m very new to the world of classical music. But even without that background, I could feel the emotion and energy radiating from the orchestra.
After the first movement, something unexpected happened: the conductor turned to the audience and began speaking. In French, he explained that this was not just a concert—it was meant to be a learning experience for all of the students in attendance. He wanted us to walk away with a deeper understanding and appreciation for orchestral music. He started with the string section, having the first chair of each instrument (violin, viola, cello, and bass) play a small part from the first movement so we could hear their unique contributions. It was fascinating to hear how the different strings blended together yet each carried its own distinct voice.
The concert was also interactive, which made it even more engaging. At one point, the conductor asked the string section to play an eight-count from a famous piece, and one of them turned out to be the iconic melody from Jaws. I thought that was so cool! As someone with very little experience in this kind of music, I was amazed by how much depth there is and how recognizable some melodies can be, even to a newcomer.
After the musicians played the second movement, the conductor paused again to tell us about Tchaikovsky. I absolutely loved this part. As a ballerina, I already knew a bit about him because he wrote the music for The Nutcracker ballet, but it was so interesting to learn more about his life and struggles. Hearing about the composer made the music feel more personal and alive.
The conductor then introduced the woodwind section, which turned out to be one of my favorites. He had them play several melodies, and I was so proud when I correctly recognized one from Swan Lake (another famous Tchaikovsky ballet). The woodwinds had such a rich, melodic sound that I couldn’t help but fall in love with their tone.
The orchestra moved on to the third movement, which quickly became my favorite. The string section played almost entirely pizzicato (plucking the strings), creating a light, playful, and dancing effect. It was such a sharp contrast to the heaviness of the first two movements, and I loved how it felt like a breath of fresh air. This contrast made the symphony feel even more dynamic and expressive.
After that, the conductor introduced the brass and percussion sections, giving each a chance to shine. He also took a moment to explain the role of the conductor, which was super interesting. To demonstrate, he invited a volunteer from the audience to come up and try conducting the orchestra. It was hilarious to watch but also surprisingly impressive—with the conductor’s guidance, the student volunteer actually managed to create a beautiful sound. The whole audience cheered, and it was such a fun, lighthearted moment.
Finally, the orchestra played the fourth and final movement, which was nothing short of spectacular. It was grand, powerful, and beautifully written, leaving everyone in the hall on a high note. I was blown away by the sheer talent of the musicians and the energy of the performance.
After the concert, there was a small mixer where students could mingle and chat. It was super fun, and I loved meeting and talking with students from other programs in Metz. It felt great to be part of such a vibrant and diverse community. Eventually, I caught the bus back to the dorms, feeling so grateful for the experience. It was truly a magical evening. One that deepened my appreciation for orchestral music and gave me memories I’ll cherish for a long time.
I think my best day abroad happened when I truly noticed my French improving. It all started when I volunteered to go with my speaking partner from my French conversation class to visit the home of a French family. I was both excited and nervous for this experience. I knew that I’d have to speak French the entire time, and because I was at a higher level than my partner, I felt responsible for carrying most of the conversation with the family. Adding to the pressure, the visit was scheduled to last from 6 p.m. to 11 p.m., and the thought of speaking French for five hours straight felt a little overwhelming. I was nervous but determined to give it my best shot.
About three hours before the event, I got a text from my partner. She had to cancel because she had a big exam the next day and needed to study. Suddenly, my nerves skyrocketed—now I was going to do this visit entirely on my own, without the support of a friend. My anxiety grew, but I reminded myself that this was an incredible opportunity to push myself.
I walked to the Georgia Tech building, where I was supposed to wait for the family to pick me up. It was drizzling as I made my way there, and while the light rain did little to calm my nerves, I tried to focus on the excitement of the experience. As I stood with a few other students, waiting for our host families, my mind kept racing with all the possible ways the night could go. Finally, my family arrived. It was a woman named Rebecca, along with her stepdaughter Sarah. They welcomed me with such warmth and enthusiasm that my nerves started to ease a little bit. Rebecca was chatting with some of the program administrators, and I struck up a conversation with Sarah. She was a senior in high school, and it turned out that she spoke a bit of English, which made me feel a little more at ease. Her specialty in school was English, so I knew that if I really got stuck, we could communicate in English if necessary. Once we got into the car, they immediately asked if I was okay with their dog. I enthusiastically said yes—I love dogs—and I was thrilled to see a small, adorable white poodle. Her name was Jazz, and she ended up sitting on my lap for most of the car ride. Having her there helped calm me down a lot, and it made the drive to their apartment much more comfortable. We chatted in French the whole way, and it felt surprisingly natural.
When we arrived at the apartment, I met the rest of the family. Rebecca’s son Ewen, who was eight, and Sarah’s older brother Thibaud, who was nineteen and studying English at university. We all introduced ourselves, and I could feel my confidence growing as the conversation flowed. I spent a little more time talking with Sarah in French, and then we all sat down for dinner. Dinner was lively and full of laughter. I was completely immersed in French conversation, and it felt like a breakthrough moment for me. Despite my initial nervousness, I found myself keeping up with the flow of the conversation and even contributing. After dinner, I continued chatting with Sarah and Thibaud, and we spoke entirely in French. We talked about their studies, my experiences in France, and even shared a few jokes. It was the first time I really felt like I could hold my own in a full-length French conversation.
Before I knew it, it was 11:30 p.m., and it was time for me to head back. As I said goodbye, they warmly insisted that I come back next week, which made me feel like I had truly made a connection with them. The whole experience was wonderful, not only because of the home-cooked meal and the warm, familial atmosphere, but also because it gave me a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment. It felt amazing to see my French improving in such a real and meaningful way, and it was incredibly rewarding to feel comfortable speaking the language for an entire evening.
Looking back, that night gave me so much more than just language practice. It gave me a sense of belonging, a feeling of being welcomed into a family, and the satisfaction of knowing that my hard work in learning French was paying off. I absolutely loved the experience and am already looking forward to returning to my makeshift “homestay” family for many more evenings to come.
Occasionally, when you travel, you find a city you absolutely fall in love with. Athens is one such place for me.
When you think about traveling in Greece, your head may turn to the prospect of island hopping from one magnificent marina to another, tasting delicious food and staying up all night with friends. You may think of Mykonos or Santorini or Crete, of wild summer nights and relaxing beach days. Of crystal-clear water and picturesque cliffs, clashing with fierce waves like something out of Homer’s Odyssey.
While such experiences are appealing for me, I’d rather be in the thick of things. Athens is as far from a beach resort as you can get, but it’s also a sprawling metropolis packed with some of the best food in the world, one of the greatest oeuvres of history on the planet, and tons to do. It is one of the great cities of the world, a cradle of civilization, philosophy, and creativity, and the birthplace of democracy and sport.
So why is it not talked about more? Why are the islands of Greece typically more popular and more romanticized?
Step a foot into Athens and you will see. Like the more polarizing (and equally beloved by me) city of Naples, Athens is intense.
Rows of restaurants and cafes, topped by floors of apartments, make up the buildings that line the city blocks. Graffiti lines any building that has shuttered its doors, and the air is thick with smoke and smells from hundreds of different culinary delights. Overall, however, the city streets are alive, particularly at night. People help people, and this rings true especially in Athens, where the people are some of the kindest I’ve ever met.
I spent 4 days in Athens, taking a late-night plane on Wednesday, and returning Sunday night. Initially, I thought I might need a day trip to fill my days: I was mistaken. Athens is enormous and packed with activities. You could wake up at dawn and wander until midnight, and you still wouldn’t have scratched the surface of the city.
For me, I split my itinerary for Athens into three main categories: food, monuments, and city life. I love Greek food- who doesn’t? And I knew for sure that I wanted to have as much as possible. Eating local cuisine is a must for me in any country I go to. Knowing this, I had to ask myself: what did I want to try while I was in Athens? In the end, the answer was primarily gyros. And spanakopita, saganaki, bougatsa, baklava, peppers, tzatziki, and feta, of course. And I can’t forget the souvlaki! Or how about a delicious espresso freddo while you people watch at a cafe on the bustling city streets?
Greek food is some of the most incredible in the world, and for good reason. The Greek people are incredibly passionate and prideful of their culinary identity; it is something that has developed over the millennia alongside the rich culinary history of Turkey. For example, during the Hellenistic Period and Eastern Roman Empire’s rule in Anatolia, seafood dishes, stews, and desserts began to sprout throughout what is modern-day Turkey, based heftily on Greek design. Gaziantep, Turkey’s modern culinary capital, developed as a spice crossroads between the far East, Byzantine Antiochia, and the rest of mainland Turkey and Greece.
Likewise, after the Fall of Constantinople in 1453 and the conquering of Greece by the Ottoman Empire in 1460, Greek food became heavily influenced by Turkish rule, particularly through the introduction of further ingredients from Ottoman territories in the East: eggplant, spices, and kofta were more heavily utilized in Greek cuisine, leading to the development of gyro and moussaka recipes; and Greek yogurt began to develop into what we know of it as today, most likely through using Turkic straining techniques. The first coffee shop in the world, Kiva Han, was opened in Istanbul (previously Constantinople) in 1475, leading to both nations absolutely adoring the drink. Drinking coffee is a staple in both Turkey and Greece, but in my experience with both countries, I must say the Greeks adore it much more- Turkey is a tea nation as much as, if not more than, it is a coffee country. During the refugee crises of the World Wars and the collapse of the Ottoman Empire and Greek recapturing of Istanbul during the First World War, kebab and souvlaki were popularized in Greece from Turkey, with both countries’ versions taking on their own life as a staple of street food cuisine. And no discussion on Greek and Turkish cuisine can be complete without baklava: to this day, there are great debates over who invented it, and it is a great aspect of the rivalry that persists between the two nations. Greek baklava developed using butter and walnuts; Turkish baklava developed using light oil and pistachios. Which is better? Which is original? That is only something you can decide: but in truth, there is no answer to this eternal debate. Turkey and Greece complete each other: there cannot be one without the other. And while my entire stay in Athens consisted of Greek food, I like to note the influences of each place I visit and everything I try; it really helps give me a broader understanding of the depth of history and culture in each place I visit, and Greece is one of the finest examples of this depth and complexity in the world.
So, where did I eat? While Thessaloniki is generally considered the gyro capital of Greece, Athens has options to die for, and for incredibly cheap, at that. I spent my time visiting legendary restaurants such as O Thanasis and Kostas Souvlaki; more modern locations, such as Tylixto; and local gems, such as Lefteris o Spolitis. While Kostas and Lefteris o Spolitis are nestled underneath the lively apartment complexes of Downtown Athens, Tylixto and O Thanasis are cradled underneath the legendary Acropolis, making for a gorgeous and lively culinary experience. While O Thanasis is famous for its kebab, I ordered the pork gyro sandwich, chili peppers doused in olive oil, tzatziki with pita, and saganaki, a fried cheese dish that tastes much better than it sounds. At Tylixto, spicy gyros are the staple. Kostas Souvlaki is aptly known for its souvlaki, and Lefteris o Spolitis, a favorite with locals, is known for its pork gyros as well, which are smaller and doused in spices. Overall, however, each of these meals make for an incredibly cheap experience. For the entire large meal at O Thanasis, an iconic venue, I spent a maximum of €13 for all of the food items. For gyros and souvlaki at the other venues, a gyro and drink will run you anywhere from €2 to €7 at the absolute most. The cheapest venue was undeniably Lefteris o Spolitis; the most expensive being Tylixto. Overall, however, these venues are all incredibly cheap compared to elsewhere in Europe, and the portions, flavor, and experience you receive from these meals are truly enchanting. Breakfast in Athens can be enjoyed anywhere, particularly at any of the city’s many cafes. While I gave a great variety of cafes my business while in Athens, my favorite had to be Bougatsadiko Psyrri, a place specializing in bougatsa, a honey-smothered custard pastry that is served searing hot. The bougatsa with a freddo espresso was incredible, and its location in the heart of the Athenian neighborhood of Psyrri gives off a wondrous sense of Greek culture and the city’s liveliness.
With so many activities, sights, and some of the liveliest city streets in the world, you can easily spend 4 days in Athens and take your time to get a scope of its history, people, and culture, day or night. Naturally, I spent much of my time in Athens exploring not only the modern architecture, but also the Ancient Greek and Roman era ruins: with fantastic student discounts on all of the sights and museums in the city, Athens’ history, significance, and charm is incredibly accessible. The National Museum of Archaeology holds incredible archaeological finds from the earliest of Greek periods, focusing on the development of Greek culture and art through the Cycladic peoples, Mycenaeans, and Cretans, eventually moving into the era of the Spartans, Athenians, Corinthians, and other states, before writhing through the Age of Alexander the Great, the Ptolemaic Dynasty of Hellenic Egypt, and the Eastern Roman Empire. I made the journey to the Panathenaic Stadium, the first modern Olympic Stadium, in Athens, reveling in centuries of athletic history and excellence.
And naturally, I spent hours exploring Hadrian’s Library, the Roman Agora of Athens, and the Temple of the Olympian Zeus; I wandered through the vast Athenian Agora, the birthplace of democracy and Western philosophy, and climbed to the marvelous Temple of Hephaestus, illuminated by the golden hue of the Athenian sunset. And of course, no visit to Athens is complete without ascending to the Acropolis; a magnificent complex full of archaeological wonders, including the Theater of Dionysus, the Odeion of Herodes Atticus, and most famously, the Parthenon, a massive temple dedicated to the Goddess Athena in the city named for her.
The Parthenon continues to be one of the finest examples of Ancient Greek architecture and art in the modern world; it is maddening to think that until only about 340 years ago, it was almost entirely intact, just as it had stood since its construction in 447 BC, or nearly 2500 years ago.
Today, however, the Parthenon stands roofless and almost wall-less, a product of a war between the Ottoman Empire and Venice in the 17th Century. The Ottomans utilized the Parthenon for ammunition storage and public housing. However, it was attacked during the 1687 Siege of the Acropolis, causing the destruction of the Parthenon’s roof, walls, and around 60% of the Parthenon’s sculptures, many of which had been crafted by Phidias, one of the greatest sculptors of all time.
Despite its near-destruction, restoration efforts have kept the remainder of the magnificent temple intact over the last three centuries, and today it is still a magisterial sight to behold. Strolling beneath the magnificent columns and ruins of the ancient city, mixed with the life and culture of the modern city, is a feeling so overwhelming that it cannot be described; it must be felt.
As a modern city nestled around an ancient marvel: each neighborhood holds something unique to explore. While I spent most of my time around the Acropolis, I still met incredible people and learned much about the grandiose Greek culture, cuisine, and history. In Plaka, I witnessed brilliant examples of Greek art and architecture dispersed throughout the streets. In Monastiraki, the little monastery is the marking place for a square surrounded by little shops, markets, restaurants, and Orthodox monuments; in the incredibly small yet charming Anafiotika, I witnessed an adorable, quaint neighborhood nestled in the shadow of the Acropolis; and in Exarcheia, Psyrri, and Vathi Square, I ate incredible food and enjoyed witnessing local life.
Every night I spent in Athens, I tried to get out to a sunset. Each time, I found a new spot, and enjoyed magical views of the city. On one of my explorations, I found a brilliant view of the Acropolis and city atop one of the city’s many hills, near some ruins that were scarcely visited. In a rather difficult to get to area, I had one of the finest views in the city all to myself; below me stretched white houses for miles, contrasting with the colliding greens and blues of the olive trees below and cloudless sky above. In front of me, the Acropolis, larger than any photo could ever capture; to the left and right of me, rolling hills encapsulating a stunning landscape. As the sun began to set, the blue of the sky turned into a fierce battle between red and orange and yellow, and the city below sparkled in the early-Fall night. The air was cool, the sky was otherworldly, the sounds of the city came to life, and in that moment, the world was mine.
Sometimes, a travel itinerary should just be one thing: walking and witnessing. In Athens, I bore witness to greatness and grandeur beyond what I could have possibly imagined. If the chance ever arises, you must visit. A world is out there to be explored, and Athens is one of the finest places in it.
My first trip out of the lovely country of France was about a six hour train ride to two beautiful towns in Switzerland. It was a bright and early wake up call, with my train leaving at 7 am. The first city was Bern and this is one of my first times in a European city. Right after getting off the train station, I saw a glass archway welcoming me with the beautiful architecture of Switzerland. There is such a striking and timeless beauty that the entire city feels like a living museum, with its historic structures, clock towers, and intricate fountains that are almost like pieces of art.
One of my most favorite parts of Bern was the gorgeous blue waters of the Aare River. The water was almost teal — it was some of the prettiest bodies of water I have ever seen. Even when arriving on the train, I could see the winding turquoise blue water cutting through the city passing by cafes and small boutiques. I walked past narrow alleyways, each with its own unique character. I eventually made it to the central square called Bundesplatz, and from the start I heard music blasting from the square. I happened to stumble upon a men’s sand volleyball tournament. This was coming right off of the Paris olympics, and it was so cool to be able to watch some of the world’s best athletes compete in a friendly competition. I also got to see the Bern Cathedral, and I know some people say that if you’ve seen one cathedral you’ve seen them all, but this being one of the first cathedrals I’ve visited, I don’t think seeing these amazing feats of architecture will ever get old. Another highlight of Bern was being able to jump into the fast moving waters of Aare River. It being a hot day, it was amazing to cool off. The river runs about 8 MPH and floating down this river was a highlight of my trip. After this swim, I dried off and got ready to go to dinner. This was an amazing traditional swiss dinner of Rösti. It is traditionally made with potatoes. I was able to enjoy mine with mushrooms and a cream sauce. It was delicious, and I would definitely try it again.
After the day in Bern, I hopped on a quick train to Interlaken. This town is nestled between two crystal-clear lakes, Lake Thun and Lake Brienz. The town is surrounded by towering, snow-capped mountains, making it feel like I’ve stepped into a postcard. Although it was dark when I arrived, I could feel the clean air and see the streets that are lined with charming wooden chalets, the traditional Swiss architecture blends perfectly with the natural beauty that surrounds them. I finally made it to the hostel called Balmers. It was a perfect place to stay and even had a trivia night when I arrived. I told my team knowingly that the national animal of Scotland was a unicorn, but they didn’t believe me, but it was all in good fun. It was at this point that I knew that I had made some true friends from GTE. I couldn’t wait to go on more adventures with them.
After a long travel day, we crashed in our rooms, but woke up at around 8 am to go on a hike. I love hiking, as working for Elon outdoors, and I could not wait to get started. I knew it was going to be a tough one with 2,500 feet of elevation gain in less than 2 miles, but I persisted and the view at the top was so worth it. The hike took almost all day. Afterwards, I immediately took a bus to the crystal clear Lake Thun, and boy was it cold, but it really did feel super refreshing after that long hike. After a super long day, we finished with dinner at a local restaurant. I feel like in Europe I haven’t had a bad meal.
The last day in Switzerland was also incredible. I got to have an amazing American style breakfast of avocado toast. There was also a festival with a farmers market happening in town. I loved seeing all of the fresh produce. After exploring that I got to do one of my favorite activities of tandem paragliding. I could truly see everything as we glided down the mountains and over the stunning lakes. The natural beauty of Switzerland is truly amazing. The last thing I did was enjoy some chocolate covered strawberries before heading back on the train to Metz. It was an unforgettable weekend and I can’t wait to travel again soon. Thanks for reading and I hope to inspire all of you to live your best lives. That’s all from me, have a great day.
Hi Everyone! My name is Lila Noble, I am a transient student currently at GTE from Elon University. I am a Junior with a double major in Biology Foundations for Medical Sciences and French.
I’m originally from Wilmette, IL, a suburb of Chicago. I am in the SLS (Serve, Learn, Sustain) French program, and I love living in Metz, France. Coming abroad with GTE is my first experience in Europe, and I am so excited to explore this new chapter in my life.
At Elon University, I work for Elon Outdoors as a trip leader and a TA in the biology department. Outside of the classroom, I’m the treasurer of the Elon Club Swim Team and a member of Alpha Chi Omega on campus sorority. I also have a love for French culture. I have been studying the French language for about ten years, and I am also the president of the Elon University French club.
I also love traveling and writing about my adventures. I have a travel instagram account @LilaGoesToFrance.
I’m super excited to be the GTE guest blogger, and I am so excited to share all of my adventures with all of you.
I am an overzealous traveler and in my desire to see the world, I seemed to immediately forget about the historical city right in front of me after arriving at GT-Europe. My mind immediately raced to my first trip: a tour of Luxembourg and Belgium. I booked my buses and trains, my lodging and museums, and then received an email that conflicted me: the Mirabelle Festival was this weekend! And so, I cut my (absolutely wonderful) Belgium trip a day short, and booked a 6:00 am bus back to Metz on Sunday in order to experience one of Lorraine’s most important traditions firsthand.
Out of all of Metz’s traditions, the Mirabelle Festival is certainly the most famous. Mirabelles are a tiny golden plum that have been harvested in Lorraine for a few hundred years. The two variations are the larger, more bruised Nancy Mirabelle, and the smaller, more tart Metz Mirabelle; the latter of which is the subject of the festival. Mirabelles aren’t only eaten at this festival, they are cherished. There is mirabelle art, concerts dedicated to the mirabelle, and any assortment of food or drink that you can imagine made from mirabelles. Now, why are Mirabelles so beloved? In order to understand, let me paint a bigger picture for you.
Metz was founded as Divodurum by the Romans, and quickly became rich due to its grapes and the wine that those grapes made. Divodurum prospered for a while, until it didn’t. During the Year of the Four Emperors in 69 AD, the pretender emperor Vitellius inexplicably sacked the city, massacring its citizens. The Franks invaded in the 3rd Century AD- and the city was sacked and destroyed again by Attila the Hun in 451. Metz slowly recovered, and soon prospered once more: as long as humans lust, there will always be a market for grapes and wine.
Metz then proceeded to survive the middle ages through many sieges, battles, and attacks, but happened upon incredibly tough times in the 1800s: the city fell to the Germans in 1870, and a horrible infesting pest called the grape phylloxera destroyed the region’s grapes. Throughout history, when you lose a major source of your economic prowess, as well as a major crop, a few things generally occur: famine, recession, and poverty. A replacement for the grape was necessary to quell these horrors from being realized upon Metz, as well as Lorraine as a whole; and so, a small yellow plum from Anatolia was imported, where it thrived in the conditions of Lorraine, particularly in Metz and Nancy. Mirabelle quite literally means “looks beautiful”, if you take the etymology of the word; while there is no definitive evidence of why it was named this, I like to think it looked beautiful to the people of Lorraine, as a savior to the destruction of the grape vines and as a beacon of hope in a time of perennial darkness.
Thus it began: every year, around the time of the Mirabelle harvest, Metz would have a festival dedicated to the crop. Rows and rows of tents filled the local park in Metz, and a concert pavilion was constructed to hold singing events; carnival games were set up, food stands were propped up, and the festivities commenced. In the tents, you could buy an assortment of goods: pretzels, wines, juices, and arts and crafts such as handcrafted bird boxes, watercolor paintings, and comic displays; but most of all, you could buy almost anything Mirabelle based that you could think up. There was Mirabelle beignets, Mirabelle cola, Mirabelle gummies, Mirabelle candies, Mirabelle jam, Mirabelle juice, Mirabelle cakes, Mirabelle ice cream, and just about anything else you could imagine that Mirabelles could be used in: there was a stand specializing in Mirabelle fusion into Guinean food; there were Mirabelle floats twice the size of any man; but most of all, there were people proud of their city, celebrating themselves and their heritage through the means of the small yellow plum that not so long ago gave hope to the people of Metz.
Just as peaches represent Atlanta, Mirabelles represent Metz, and this longstanding tradition only epitomizes what my peers and I have come to learn: even the smallest of cities can have the biggest of hearts. So whether you’d like to call it the Green City, Garden City, City of the Dragon, or City of Mirabelles, one thing is for certain: we at GT-Europe are all lucky to call Metz home.