Brave Goes Abroad: May 2015

Many people before me have studied abroad and many before me have shared their experiences through a blog. As I was leaving Barcelona recently, one of my friends started calling me “brave” in a teasing way and that is when it occurred to me that it is unclear (for some) why I decided to blog under the name Brave Goes Abroad.

“Be Brave” became a motto for me back in the fall when I participated in the filming and promotion of the TCU Frogs for the Cure 10^th anniversary music video, featuring Josh Groban’s song “Brave”. While I wish people would acknowledge living and studying in another country as something that is brave, the brave part was never about me. The brave part was about my mom, the brave part was about Frogs for the Cure chairwoman Ann Louden, just as much as it was about the women who I do not personally know, like the mom of a friend’s friend who more recently received a heartbreaking, late-stage diagnosis. All of these women inspired me to take the “Be Brave” campaign overseas. While my original plan was to chronicle the Frogs for the Cure “Brave” t-shirt around Europe, I found myself with a handbag full of pink ribbons and just like that Brave Goes Abroad was born.

To update you all on my whereabouts, I am now home on the east coast after finishing my semester in London where my trip overlapped with the birth of a new royal. Welcome Princess Charlotte! With many hours to kill on the long flight from London to New York, I found myself making a list of miscellaneous thoughts I wanted to remember for myself but also share with others. So below you’ll find the ramblings of a girl whose heart and soul are wrapped up in Barcelona.

“This heart of mine was made to travel the world.”

-Unknown

If there is one thing I am sure of after living in Barcelona, it is that I love to wander. I wandered abroad when I was broken, hurt, and confused over my mom’s third cancer diagnosis and I just continued to wander and wander and get lost. While feeling lost and somewhat lonely marked much of my fall semester this past year, going abroad filled my heart with hope. I got to see how incredible the big, beautiful world beyond my world is and now I’m starting to wonder what’s next.

I suppose I meant for this post to be a reflection on Barcelona and every reason I came to love it but where do I even start? Barcelona drew me in from day one because of its fierce pride, spirit, and tradition. Barcelona is part of an autonomous region of Spain called Catalunya and for many political and historical reasons, people in Barcelona do not consider themselves Spaniards but instead Catalans. When Barcelona hosted the Olympic Games in 1992, the King and Queen of Spain were introduced and honored to the sound of the local, Catalunya anthem instead of the national anthem, a “mistake” which came as a major surprise to the monarchs. In addition, Catalunya Independence flags are hung all over the city and the iconic red and yellow stripes have been recreated in public demonstrations as well as “mosaics” in FC Barcelona’s stadium, Camp Nou. While a fascist dictator once tried to oppress the Catalan people and drown out their unique culture and language, they have survived and thrived. And the Catalan people who I made friends with on my trip helped me create some of my fondest memories from this semester.

There was also so much to see and do which could have felt daunting, but instead I found exciting. After getting the metro system down in the first couple of days, I would spend my afternoons off from class exploring. Some days I would go out on a coffee shop crawl of my own and other times I’d pick a park to sit in with a book. Living with Tori, the #1 foodie queen herself, I also ventured out and tried lots of new foods and restaurants, continuing to combat my childhood dislike of seafood. At the end of the semester, I even found myself hopping the train to spend time in towns just outside of Barcelona because my curiosity wouldn’t simmer down. The list goes on and on… Barça games, rowing boats in the park, spending time on the beach, treating myself to an ancient baths spa day…

Even though this is so specific (and not to mention random), I also LOVED that just above Barcelona on Mt. Tibidabo there was a church you could see from almost any point in the city. One day, while I had a friend visiting from out of town, I decided to go up and see the church along with a rather smallish amusement park also situated at the top of Tibidabo. While I found the church and the amusement park to be rather disappointing, the view from up there (the tallest point overlooking the city) was spectacular to say the least. But regardless of this initial disappointment, I continued to love Tibidabo. Walking up any street that runs into the mountain, I would catch sight of that one church and I just wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes off of it. Lit up at night, keeping watch over the city, Tibidabo is magical. And on my last day, as night time was settling in over Barcelona and I was leaving aboard a British Airways flight for London, Tibidabo made me incredibly nostalgic about my time abroad.

You see, it’s hard to wrap up this post because I’ve been thinking about all this for a while and I know I’ll never do it justice… my love for Barcelona. They say that when you get home from studying abroad you find that people aren’t so much interested in your stories of traveling so I’m trying to remind myself to not be that girl. But I have to say, if given the opportunity to see the world, or at least just some of it, go for it. Don’t be afraid of what you could be leaving behind because I promise it will be there when you get back. Home isn’t going anywhere but oh the places you can go.

As I was leaving Barcelona two weeks ago, one of the friends I made this semester reached out to me one last time to give me the whole “it was so nice to meet you” spiel (which if you’re reading this… I so appreciated). But goodbyes always suck. Anyhow, he told me Barcelona isn’t going anywhere just as I’ve told you that home isn’t going anywhere. When you come to love a place, its hard to leave, I know. But I’m here to say it’s all worth it! Today, I’m posting from home but down the road, who knows where I’ll be. Barcelona, perhaps.

#BeBrave

Just yesterday I got back to London from spending a couple days in Ireland, making up for the trip I missed last month. As you may know, this trip involved a brief visit to the southern coast of Ireland followed by some days in Dublin. Where to begin?

My time in Kinsale, Ireland, was made special by friends of mine from Greenwich who recommended the town and set me up with their local friend, Mike. Mike, having some days off from work, was happy to show me around the town, which came as a relief since I was traveling solo and had no idea where to start. On Monday, he collected me from the Cork airport, showed me around the city, and answered the thousands of questions I had about the Irish. On our drive from Cork to Kinsale, Mike walked me through nearly 10 Irish accents and I'm embarrassed to say that it took me a moment to clue back in after he'd wrapped up the impersonations and was just speaking as himself. It's not easy developing an ear for accents, which is why I will now cut the cabbies in Barcelona some slack for thinking I was British.

Between Monday and Tuesday, Mike showed me the best of the town. One of my favorite parts was our drive out to the Old Head of Kinsale, which in the past 20 years has become a golf course. Although the course is not open to the public, the view of the cliffs just outside the course and the rolling landscape that surrounds it are still quite amazing. Bless Mike's heart for being so patient with me as I attempted (and failed) to take a ribbon picture... the wind just wouldn't allow it.

While in Kinsale, I also enjoyed the time I spent on my own. The bed and breakfast recommended to me was simply adorable and I loved every second of having a full-sized bed to myself. On Tuesday morning, I redeemed my complimentary breakfast voucher at the café next door, where I realized that people were referring to me as "the girl staying in B+B". Kinsale is a small, small town and I'm sure it isn't every day that a girl from the US, traveling alone is standing out on the street corner attempting to take pictures with a pink ribbon. But hi, it's nice to meet you... my name is actually Liz!

After breakfast and coffee, I took a walk up to an area called Compass Hill, which boasts incredible views of the harbor. During this walk, the skies opened up and gave my poor little travel-sized umbrella a beating so I ran back into town to see if Mike wanted to grab lunch. He did, indeed, want lunch and so we wrapped up my second and final day in Kinsale by grabbing food and touring the old forts. Mike was also kind enough to drive me back into the city to catch the train to Dublin, but with stupid traffic I came quite close to missing it. When I jumped on and the doors closed behind me, I was quite happy to find onboard wifi and a vacant seat next to me.

Once in Dublin, I was met at the train station by my friend Aidan, who I met years and years ago in Cádiz, Spain. When he first opened his mouth I thought oh gosh, he's way more Irish than I had remembered. And we shared a good laugh later that night when he admitted that he had thought the same thing about my voice... not the way he had remembered it. Anyhow, we seemed to pick back up where we'd left off five years ago and I am so thankful to have had time to catch up with him, his sister, and one of the other friends I made on my Cádiz trip in 2010.

Between Tuesday night and Thursday, Aidan showed me around central Dublin, hitting some of the major attractions, while also finding time to take me out to a nearby beach town. We both enjoyed touring the Guinness Storehouse where I became the Master Brewer's Honorary Apprentice and Aidan stuck his entire head in barley fumes (a story for another time). Earlier that day, we had told friends we'd be free after touring Guinness, which we figured would take us around an hour. Turns out we spent closer to three hours at St. James's Gate Brewery, which concluded with free pints in the Gravity Bar atop the storehouse... a bar with AMAZING views of the city.

I know that down the road one of my favorite memories from this past week in Dublin will be the laughs I shared with my friends as we compared common words and sayings from our respective cultures. You should have seen the enjoyment they got out of a game we played where they would write down traditional Irish names and I would slaughter the pronunciation, time after time. Why don't you try and pronounce Siobhan, Saoirse, Tagh, Aoife, and Yvonne. Not easy, huh? Buzzfeed knows what I mean.

I really could go on about my trip to Ireland for hours but my time abroad is now limited to just days! I'm off to adventure around London some more and will write next week from home. Until then...