Zara Quiter, TIWP Student

My reflection of my trip to London and Paris must start with a note of gratitude to my parents for taking me on the trip. To have an opportunity to go to Europe at only twelve years old is a priceless gift I am infinitely grateful for. You paid for this trip and planned this trip and didn’t lose me or my siblings in the crowds, even when there was a bomb threat or closing Tube doors.

The second thing I should discuss is the hospitality I received. In London, my family of five stayed with my mom’s best friend and her husband and four boys in a big, beautiful house in Finchley. Being able to come home to a lively place filled with wonderful people and lots of food meant everything to a trio of tired children (also, having my own room was excellent, thank you for that).

In Paris, our situation was a bit more squeezed, but it was truly the best we could ask for: a three bedroom apartment for five Quiters and three Tran-Wexlers on the Ile Saint-Louis, one of the islands on the Seine river. It’s my great aunt’s place, and she lives there with her husband and best friend half the year, and, being who she is, she happily offered it to us. It is well furnished- definitely a little too nice for us- and a perfect location, near the most delicious patisserie, and, although it is unfortunately in the midst of repairs, very close to one of the most beautiful and fascinating places in the world, Notre-Dam.

I don’t quite remember when I realized what Londons means to me. There was some moment when I felt that if it is a higher power, they want me to be in London. That London is where I belong, just like Camp Tawonga.

Maybe the moment I fell in love with London was the first night—I guess it didn’t take long. I was sitting in my room, writing in my diary, when I stopped to listen to the rain. It was a sound I fell asleep to. A sound I wish I could fall asleep to forever.

There’s just something about how on every other block, there’s something older than America as a country that fascinates me. In both Paris and London, museums were in old castles. It’s beautiful and amazing that people are resourceful enough to use an old architectural masterpiece as a museum, or even use a train station, like Musee d’Orsay, instead of tearing down years of history and building something new.

There are many things in Europe that are better than America. For starters, the chocolate. The evidence could be found in one of our suitcases, which is stuffed with it. And tea. We brought home PG Tips decaf tea. According to my parents, wine is also better- another thing we brought home. The last thing that could make it through a ten hour plane ride is good old salt and vinegar crisps (crisps are chips).

There are too many things we couldn’t bring home, though. Obviously, cheese. All the cheese. I really miss cheese. Even the stinky cheese. And the fresh pastries from Paris every morning are irreplicable. C’est magnifique! Also, the classic fish and chips. Even escargot is delicious. And even though we didn’t go to Italy, the gelato was ridiculously good. So much to miss.

And then there’s public transportation. The contrast between when we got off the plane in Heathrow and took the Elizabeth Line to the Northern Line and got off at Golders Green and then took a bus to where we’re staying compared to when we landed in San Francisco and took BART to a bus home is honestly hilarious. The Tube and le Metro are just so much more convenient. The system is so much more organized and convenient, and it seems like they care about the livelihood of their people more. That’s why people drive less in Europe. Because, as the BART logo goes; No car, no problem. That’s normally a lie if we’re talking about BART, but for The Tube and le Metro it’s true.

There are some moments while in Europe that hit different then others. The first is while we were in the Tower of London, walking from tower to tower on the outer walls, and watching the fantastic view of Tower Bridge. The second is when we reached the end of the Harry Potter studios tour, after trying butterbear and walking through the Dark Forest, and saw Hogwarts in mini size, one of the interesting things I have ever seen. One is when I walked into a street with old, brick buildings filled to the brim with strange and unique stores, including multiple Taylors Swift stores, called Camden Town. Next, when I walked into a patisserie in the morning with my mom for the first time, and got to smell the mouth watering scent of fresh pastries. Then, when I saw what felt like the biggest city in the world from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

I saw a very beautiful sight on the same day we were evacuated from the Palace of Versailles because of a bomb threat—it was the brightest double rainbow, nearly a half circle, stretching over the palace, viewed from the gardens. Of course, a special moment is when I walked into literary heaven, officially known as Shakespeare and Company Books, a very old bookstore some of the greatest authors in history have read and written in. And, the Enlightenment Exhibit at the British Museum, which is a humongous hall filled to the brim with books.

I learned so much on this trip. For starters, I learned a lot of history, but instead of from a textbook, from walking through the palaces and towers and museums. I learned how to make a perfect cup of tea. I learned (kind of) to ignore my pet peeve of spending money. I learned to be more grateful. I learned how to actually contribute to planning things. I learned more about my great-grandparents and where they lived after World War 2. I learned a ridiculous amount about the makings of the Harry Potter movies.

But most importantly, I learned to not set my own life in stone, to open my mind to new possibilities that cannot be ignored. That, when you love a place, you should never forget it. Sometimes, life plans must be adapted to include what you love. And for me, that is London, a place I wish to call home.