Baran and I walked back from lunch at Crous Cafeteria discussing how little we knew about Dutch culture. One search led us to a main list of items: stroopwafels, frites and clogs. Perfect. We will eat stroopwafels and frites, and I will buy a pair of clogs.
Our six hour train to Amsterdam landed us in the Amsterdam Zuid station. A metro took us straight to an outdoor mall. We passed thrift stores, a KFC and TK Maxx before reaching our hostel, or hostelle. “Hostelle” is what you would guess it is—a female only hostel.
Hostelle didn’t shy away from its feminine nature. The lobby is decorated in pink and orange with bouquets of flowers on tables and an amalgamation of art work. The kitchen is tiled with colorful, floral porcelain. Walking past the lobby to the stairs, six makeup mirrors line the walls on pink tables with pink chairs. Up the stairs and around the corner, we opened the door to our eleven-person room. The beds and curtains were hot pink, and below each bunk were hot pink lockers where we stored our bags before heading out to the city.
We enjoyed the streets of Amsterdam as we made our way to the Van Gogh museum. The museum is in a canal-side park and looks like a small, glass box. Entering, we headed down below the ground before traveling up three floors of exhibits. I, like many others, was interested in seeing Sunflowers. The office in my grandparents’ Wyoming house had a copy of the painting. I wasn’t particularly amused by the one in Amsterdam because I had firmly believed the copy at my grandparents’ house was the original for so long. There were plenty of other paintings to amuse me, though. The museum displayed many other pieces from artists that inspired Van Gogh or at least had some sort of connection to the artist.
I enjoyed the depictions of Montmartre, other floral works, and a wall dedicated to paintings of worn out shoes. Van Gogh bought shoes from flea markets, destroyed them in the mud, and painted them. The museum had ways of drawing the audience into the exhibits. For the shoes, a pair of real, worn-out vans were on display. The wall reads, “How about your shoes? What kind of experiences have they had?”
The Dutch food tour started the next day at Firma Stroop for stroopwafels. I personally call stroopwafels “caramel cookie waffles.” I don’t really know where this came from, but I had never heard them called “stroopwafels” before this trip. Firma Stroop makes pancake size caramel cookie waffles, dips half of them in chocolate, and tops them with two toppings of your choice. Maddie and Baran both chose raspberries while I chose caramel and hazelnuts. Nothing can really go wrong with a caramel cookie waffle.
As we wandered the streets of Amsterdam, I kept my eye out for a pair of wooden clogs. Maddie, on the other hand, was determined to get a black tube top. If you know Maddie, you know how she feels about her black tube top. Maddie has the perfect black tube top, a staple that I also love to steal. Unfortunately, the item never made its way into her suitcase which meant she had to find a replacement as soon as possible.
We entered into &OtherStories with Maddie going straight for a promising rack while Baran and I eyed the shoe sale. A pair with an oddly clog-like toe caught our eye. We noticed that there were a lot of these peculiar flats on sale, and since I was craving a clog, this was the closest I could get to wearable. The first pairs of “clogs” were a little too pricey and fuzzy for me. As Baran and I returned to the front of the store, we found Maddie with no black tube top in hand.
H&M had one pair of flats with a clog-adjacent toe. They were black satin with a gold buckle. I told Baran if they were under 15€, I would get them. She flipped over the price tag and smiled. 13€. Aesthetically, I could do better. We arrived at the front of the store to find Maddie empty handed.
In Zara, Baran and I kneeled down by the racks to find an enjoyable clog that fit (enough.) A deep burgundy clog caught my eye. It was adorned with a double grommet silver buckle. I put them on and was generally satisfied with the fit. We made it to checkout, but once again, Maddie, with a straight-mouthed smile, stood holding no black tube top.
Our tiring search took up a lot of our energy. We went to Fabel Friet for their iconic fries to recover. The line was fast moving and the fries were very affordable. They come with a choice of cheese and a choice of sauce. Maddie and Baran chose parmesan and truffle mayo. I got cheddar, so we could all try both options, and curry ketchup. I knew that I would taste and probably finish Maddie and/or Baran’s fries at some point, so I wanted to give myself as much variety as I could.
Ending the night on a canal cruise was a great way to wrap up our day. Houseboats float on the sides of the canal, and as we floated down, families ate dinner and watched TV inside. We gawked at the beautiful buildings and the people in the windows. We talked about which one we’d live in. We watched as two boys sat talking on the window sill of a tall building. There were a few software company buildings here. We could make it work for a couple years.
I wore my clogs on the Wednesday after our weekend trip. They were slightly uncomfortable, but as a frequent wear-er of Dr. Martens, I could deal with the pain. I showed off my clogs to everyone I could. No, they’re not wooden. Yes, I did buy them in Amsterdam. No, they only hurt a little.
I returned to my room that night, took off my gorgeous clogs to reveal my sock half drenched in blood. All day, my toenail had been rubbing so much on my other toe due to my flats’ pointy tip that it bled… a lot. A nauseating amount. I was filled with stroopwafel and frites and things close enough to clogs were on my feet. Amsterdam, my favorite city so far, was a success.
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.
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.
Street Art in Anafiotika
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.
Me, In Front of the Acropolis
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?
Bougasta from Bougatsadiko PsyrriBaklava & Freddo Espresso
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.
Souvlaki from KostasMeal from O Thanasis
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.
Altar to Athena, AcropolisTemple of HephaestusOlympian Zeus
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.
The Acropolis at Night
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.
A Cafe in PsyrriHadrian’s Library in PlakaAnafiotika
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.
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.
It’s Pronounced Messsssssss… All I knew of Metz before arriving to GT-Europe was that the city had a massive cathedral, as well as a soccer team that jumped between the first and second divisions of France’s professional league system. I expected a small town, a quiet place with pretty sites but not much else to do. Naturally, I was hideously mistaken.
There is much and more to do around Metz. There are the classic museums, restaurants, cafes, and churches that have become so attributed to European cities, yes; but there are also festivals, craft shops, a thriving nightlife scene, river activities, parades, gardens, parks, carnival rides, and a stadium where thousands support their beloved soccer team.
You learn upon arriving in Metz that it isn’t pronounced with a natural Anglophone “tz” sound at the end: it is pronounced as “Mess”. The city doesn’t have a pleasant history with the Germans, so any instance of Metz being pronounced as “Metz” instead of “Mess” is very immediately corrected. This is fitting: the people here are proud. They are proud of their city, they are proud of their history, and they are proud of who they are.
The “Green” City So, what is Metz, and what is its significance? If you look it up online, the internet may tell you that Metz is the Garden City, or perhaps the Green City.
In Morocco and India, you will find the Blue Cities of Chefchaouen and Jodhpur, for their blue painted streets and homes. Udaipur and Toulouse are the Pink Cities, each for different reasons. Marrakech is the Red City, due to the color of its stones, soil, and the hues of the desert sun that shine so brightly upon it. Metz, where Georgia Tech-Europe is located, is dubbed by some as the Green City, named for the many trees, parks, and vegetation that grow in tandem with the imperial and classic architecture that line the city streets.
I confess, I feel as though “The Green City” is a misnomer. It is undeniable that Metz has greenery, but so do many other cities throughout France, let alone the globe. If you go to Metz, the countless trees and parks and plants will be pleasant, but it will not be what you notice the most. You’ll instead notice the enormous High Gothic cathedral, spotted with hundred of dazzling stained-glass windows, and dozens of mythical monstrosities in gargoyle form. You’ll notice the rows of Imperial German and Renaissance style buildings, built out of Jaumont, the dimmed golden limestone that gives the city its Medieval-blonde hue; and you’ll notice the dragons, the great green fiery beasts meant to represent Graoully, the legendary dragon of Metz who terrorized the townspeople for decades before being defeated, captured, and thrown into the river by the equally legendary Saint Clement of Metz.
There is a river front with views like something out of fairytales. There is a vast Imperial Quarter, dotted with quaint cafes and fortifications from centuries ago still standing as tall and proud as they had through the sieges and wars that passed beneath their walls; and there is incredible diversity throughout the city as well. You may find yourself in a cafe or a French brasserie one moment, then an Afghan or Turkish restaurant the next. With such an assimilation of culture, Metz is a city of people; with such an opulent history, Metz is a city of legend; with people with such love for their golden-hued city, Metz is a city of pride; with such glamorous architecture, Metz is a city of beauty; and with all of these things, Metz is a city of magnificence and tradition.
And luckily for us, we were able to witness one of Metz’s finest traditions firsthand in our first week on campus.
Before heading back to school, I imagine everyone’s feelings are the same: new ambitions, a plethora of excitement, and plenty of anxiety. When you are about to embark on a study abroad, all of those emotions increase tenfold. There is fear, there is change, but above all, there is the grandeur of exploring new places, meeting new people, and experiencing different cultures — a sensation that cannot be done justice by description alone. You must experience it.
After my previous study abroad experience in Barcelona, my excitement drastically increased for this one, but tendrils of uncertainty remained. What if Metz underwhelmed? What if the classes were backbreaking, what if the people were unfriendly? As for the trips, how would I manage? My semester in Spain had spoiled me: despite being just outside of Barcelona, I was provided with quick and easy access to a world-class airport. From Metz, the commute to Paris’ or Luxembourg’s airports would be hefty, and trains would be the preferred mode of mid-distance transportation. How would I travel? Where would I go? How would I budget myself? Yet as I lifted off on my flight from New York to Frankfurt, these questions and doubts faded into obscurity. All of my worries seemed to be far away- I was headed on a new journey, and there was nothing to lose. Adventure awaits those bold enough to take a leap of faith; and any study abroad experience is a leap of faith. I was determined to make the most of what Metz had in store for me.
Any first day can be expected to have its issues. From canceled flights, to missing shuttles, to misplaced luggage, and finally to racing through Frankfurt’s airport, we certainly had ours. After landing, I managed to meet up with some Tech students at an elevator in the airport. Together, we slowly but surely found our way through the airport, made it to our shuttle, and embarked to the Lafayette dorms next to GT-Europe’s campus. I personally fell asleep immediately after entering my room; we were all jet-lagged, all exhausted. It had taken most students nearly an entire day to arrive at GT-Europe; for others, whose flights got canceled or delayed, it took upwards to 40 hours. My trip was fine, however; I had no issues with luggage, and my flight was quiet and uneventful, and I was thankful to be so lucky.
Campus Life & Metz Impressions
Campus itself is slightly outside of the city, but a quick bus ride, provided with our unlimited bus pass*, can get you into Metz quickly and comfortably. My first true experience with Metz was short, but interesting nevertheless. I went into the city with a few friends, and after meeting up with more students, we walked to the Cathedral of Metz, had kebab at one of the cities many kebab spots, and enjoyed the greenery and light that combined to give a breezy, sparkling atmosphere to the city at night.
The dorms themselves are small, but private. You will have no roommates at GT-Europe**, but you will be right next to tons of students who are just as anxious and willing to make new friends as you, so meeting people is easy. A big closet, plenty of shelf space, and plenty of cabinets line the apartment, and a twin bed with provided linens rests next to a window. The school provides you a Eurail pass*, free unlimited Metz bus pass*, and cafeteria pass*, as well as your European student ID: elsewise, it’s really up in the air as to what you get in your room. Maybe you’ll get some utensils, maybe some bowls, maybe some pots and pans. If you’re really lucky, you’ll get a fan. Nobody got a trashcan or trash bags this semester, so half of us went to Cora to purchase some, and the other half waited until the donated supplies exchange to obtain theirs. Overall, however, the most difficult day is the first day – the unpacking, the purchasing of groceries and supplies, the meeting new people and acclimating to your new surroundings. No difficult exam or nerve wracking presentation can ever live up to the pressure of the first day; but we survived, and set ourselves up for a wonderful semester to come.
Lafayette Dorm Room (left), GTE Building Lobby (right)
The campus and dorms are separated by a roundabout lined with trees and vegetation, and a nearby lake is surrounded by soccer fields, outdoor gyms, and student centers, as well as the actual GT-Europe campus itself. Classes are divided into color coordinated rooms on four levels of the GT-Europe building: a cubic, paned-glass building that resembles a Rubix cube at first glance. Most of the classes can seat upwards to 50 students if need be, but none of my classes have more than 15 students, making for a tight-knit classroom culture that allows us not only to get to know each other, but also for the professor to get to know us more than just on a superficial level. Laundry is quick and easy; bed sheets and linens can be exchanged for clean versions every week, and the washing machines are within the dorm buildings and very easy to access. Groceries of any sort can be found at the nearby grocery stores of Auchan or Cora, and an assortment of restaurants dot the area around campus: such as Mamma Mia Pizza, a pizza place that specializes in sprinkling olives on their pizzas, a Southern barbeque place that reminds me of a parody combination of Whataburger, Wingnuts, and J.R. Crickets from the outside, and of course, a McDonalds. Ultimately, I prefer to venture into the city if I am eating out, as there are so many food options to be discovered in just one walk through the city.
Orientation came and went without a hitch: classes started, and the jet lag which had plagued us replaced itself with a new familiarity to the environment we were in. I took the next few days to get to know everyone, clean my dorm, and of course, plan the first of my many trips: nearby Belgium and Luxembourg. And so, our GT-Europe trip begins: starting with the Green City of Metz.
Until then, this is Matteo Ruffo, signing off.
*Subject to change by semester. Please check GTE website for most up to date information.
**Subject to change by semester and student choice of dorms.
Hello from Atlanta, where I’m officially done with my summer courses and back home catching up on sleep! While I was homesick and excited to be back in the States, my last week in Metz made me realize that I will likely not have an experience like this summer again; my friends and I couldn’t help but point out all the “lasts,” like our last train ride back to Metz, our last souvenir purchases, and our last trip to the grocery store. This summer has given me a deeper sense of curiosity and love for travel, and while it’s likely my last time studying abroad, I’m reassured by what my mom would tell me when I’d call her, upset about travel hiccups: “It’s not your last time in Europe, Cate.” And what’s more, the world is much bigger than Europe! This summer at GTE has shown me just a small portion of the world and has planted in me a desire to see as much of it as possible.
Lasting Memories
To celebrate the small but incredible portion of the world that I got to see this summer, here’s a list of the top 5 memories and moments from my time at GTE.
5 – Day-hike in Lauterbrunnen
When my friend described the Swiss town of Lauterbrunnen to me, I immediately added it to my travel itinerary. During our visit, we spent a whole day hiking through the neighboring towns. After the first few miles, we took a cable car to the top of the ridge, where we ate lunch in the clouds and continued our hike. We built a snowman, identified the many wildflowers along the trail, and listened to the nearby cow bells jingling. We slowly made our way to the bottom of the ridge, getting back to Lauterbrunnen that evening after 12 miles of hiking. We enjoyed a dinner of bratwurst, returned to our hostel, watched Frozen 2, and were asleep by 9:30 PM, tired but content.
4 – Swiss fondue in the Alps
On another of our weekend excursions to Switzerland, we decided to cook our own meals since we were in a small mountain town with few restaurants. On our second night, we made Swiss fondue, as our Airbnb advertised that it came with a fondue pot and all the necessary utensils. I found a recipe online, and we went to the grocery store and bought all the ingredients. Everyone helped with the preparation, talking and playing music while we cubed the blocks of cheese and cooked the sausage. Despite my fear that the hot plate wouldn’t work, it proved successful, and our fondue was great! We had sausage, bread, broccoli, and potatoes to dip in it, along with the less traditional chicken nuggets. It was so much fun cooking together, and it felt more special to gather to eat something we had made ourselves.
3 – Asamkirche in Munich
Visiting cathedrals and churches is a popular tourist activity across Europe, and while I find them beautiful, many would agree that they start to blend together once you’ve seen a handful. That was the case until our trip to Munich. I had been told that I needed to visit Asamkirche, a Baroque church in the center of the city. When we visited, the façade was covered in scaffolding, so we had no idea what to expect. Upon walking in, I can genuinely say that we were all speechless. The gold ornamentation and detail was stunning, and it was nothing like I had ever seen before. We sat in silence for a few minutes, taking it all in. To anyone planning to visit Munich, Asamkirche needs to be at the top of your list.
2 – Cliff-jumping in Cinque Terre
After a brief but brutal hike from Riomaggiore to Manarola, we cooled off with some cliff-jumping in a popular ocean inlet. Above the swimming spot, spectators crowded to watch the jumpers and divers. After staring down at the water for 15 minutes and backing out several times, I finally worked up the courage to jump from one of the highest rocks; when I came up from the water, I heard cheers and clapping from the crowd above me. I guess my stalling had drawn their attention, and though I was more than slightly embarrassed, it allowed for a great memory. After several more jumps from various rocks, we dried off, changed into sundresses, and went to dinner with wet and salty hair.
1 – Sunset at Piazzale Michelangelo in Florence
Though we only had a few hours in Florence—thanks to bus and train delays—we made the most of our time there. Before sunset, we headed up the many steps to Piazzale Michelangelo, a square on top of a hill overlooking the entire city. We were able to find a good spot to sit and wait for dusk. Performers were playing music and singing, and soon, people were dancing and singing along. Since it was our friend’s birthday, we celebrated with some tiramisu we had picked up from the grocery store. We were lucky to have a beautiful sunset that night, and I couldn’t help but feel that Florence knew we didn’t have much time there and wanted to make sure that it gave us its best. There was something in the air that night, and the contentment I felt as I sat there made that night the highlight of my summer.
Last Thoughts
Through GTE, I explored new places with new friends, challenged myself with intense academics, and most importantly, learned that I’m capable of anything. I was intimidated by the prospect of living in Europe for several months, and if I’m being honest, it took me a while to become excited for the summer. But once I arrived, the excitement overcame the anxiety, and I quickly learned that I had nothing to worry about. I’m capable of navigating train systems and communicating with others despite a language barrier. I can succeed in my classes while traveling on the weekends. I can successfully problem-solve when I miss a train or get lost. I can organize trip logistics, like booking hostels and train tickets and planning itineraries. I can shop in French grocery stores, even if I’m not exactly sure what I’m buying. Overall, I’ve proved to myself that I can do the things I thought I couldn’t. This has installed a new sense of confidence in me and has shown me once again that my anxiety underestimates me. While this summer has not been easy at times, it has taught me a lot about myself, and I’m so grateful for the experiences that it has given me. I’m especially thankful for the opportunity to share these experiences through the blog, and if even one person was impacted by my writing, then I’d say I was successful.
