Alissa points up at one of the most famous landmarks in Europe.

We stumbled down the narrow sidewalk to find the beach, like all the other people pouring out of the closing clubs. There were groups of young travelers carrying six-packs of cheap beer and talking loudly in several different tongues. A boy who I had known for less than a day held my hand tightly, and my traveling companion was nowhere to be found; yet everything seemed to be going according to some predestined plan.

We finally found the ocean after what seemed like a risky journey through the narrow, dimly lit streets. We were guided, as if by instinct, like salmon to the rivers of their birth. There were hundreds of people lining the strip of beach at Barceloneta, illuminated by the 3 a.m. moonlight. Laughter and smoke drifted from the crowds and hung in the sticky, warm June air.

We chose to sit down in a circle of 50 people singing to Bob Marley songs, with two boys on guitar leading the show. The Mediterranean looked like glass under the reflection of the full moon, as if you could run across it and off into the horizon. The commotion and energy of the people drowned out the gentle crashing of the waves that broke softly on the pebbly shore.

The waters of the Mediterranean are a rich clear blue.

“What a strange night,” the boy whispered to me between songs. “I never thought the girl I would fall for in Spain would also be from California.” He brushed his curly black hair from his green eyes and gave a coy smile. I leaned my head on his shoulder and peered up at the stars. Each constellation appeared somehow brighter than at home.

I looked around at the beaming faces of the people who surrounded me. Each one held a different story, a different path, a different life, but each was accepting of one another. I sat with this boy from San Diego, surrounded by people from Spain, Britain, Germany, Norway, Sweden, and other countries, all singing “No Woman, No Cry.” We were all on our own rites of passage, a “communitas” of young travelers who’d set out to find ourselves. Out of the blue, this feeling of peace came over me.

Getting to Europe

Dreams in my childhood were often filled with adventures in foreign lands, exploring new places and meeting new people. When the chance fell into my lap last summer to go to Europe I jumped on it. Two of my close friends were living over there on student exchange and they were trying to convince me to take the trip out and travel with them during the summer. With the seed of possible adventures planted, I scoured online ticket companies. My salvation was found in a roundtrip ticket from San Francisco to Paris for $350. I decided it was a sign, a sign that I needed to eat a croissant in Paris and bask on the sunny beaches of the Mediterranean.

Always up for a crazy adventure, I decided to go on the trip alone. I left the comforts of my home, with only a backpack and a mind full of anticipation and aspirations. Traveling alone in a foreign land where you do not know the language and customs can be a very overwhelming experience. Luckily, backpackers form their own sort of community in Europe, especially in the summer. The difficulty of meeting fellow backpackers is minimal. With the stigma of their open travel books, huge turtle-shell backpacks, and wide eyes, they are easy to pick out of a crowd and they are more than willing to help out a fellow traveler.

Venturing to any new place, even if it is just another part of the country, forces you to grow and adapt in so many ways. People can easily hide from growth by keeping themselves in their safety zones. Only after you put yourself out into the world and take chances do you realize how sheltered you were prior to your metamorphosis. I left the United States thinking that I was a relatively cultured and well-versed woman. I came back with the feeling that I had grown in leaps and bounds, in all the ways a person can grow: emotionally, mentally, intellectually, spiritually and physically.

While you’re young

	The Alhambra in Granada, Spain.

Exploring the world when you’re still young is the best way to go. You still have the resilience and strength to travel with 30 to 40 pounds on your back, and sleeping on a train-station bench for a night can be done without much hesitation. You can still scrape by day to day by eating dry baguettes and water. There is something romantic and rewarding in traveling without the comforts of expensive hotels and rental cars. You can learn more about a place and its people by riding the metros, eating at cheap restaurants, and staying in its small hostels and hotels. Being young, one does not always expect to live in comfortable surroundings. This makes it an easy task for most young people to nickel and dime their way through Europe.

The magic that has made Europe a hot spot for many college and high school students is the variety of it, the endless possibilities and endless adventures to be had. Each journey is and should be different. Whether it is on a guided tour with a group of people or it is just you and some friends dancing around without any set agenda, the trip overseas will change you, even if only in small, unrecognizable ways.

Start saving a few dollars each month. Ask your friends and family to donate to your travel fund for birthday and Christmas presents. Do not postpone adventure when you are still capable of putting off life’s many responsibilities. Perhaps Europe is so appealing to young Americans today because it serves as their “last blast” before entering adulthood. It gives you a chance to be silly, sporadic and crazy before you head to a possible 9 to 5 existence.

Alissa with friend Erin Duffy at a fountain in Barcelona, Spain.

My journey led me to four countries, introduced me to friends that I still keep in touch with from all over the world, and cleared my chaos-filled, confused adolescent mind, turning me into a confident and self-assured woman. It painted me with many different colors, different cultures, different dreams and goals.

In my few short months of travel I watched street performers dance the exotic tango at 4 a.m. in a plaza in Madrid. I viewed the art I had read about and seen only in picture books up close. I met a man who will forever hold a place in my fondest memories of my youth. I ate exotic and delicious foods, and suffered the inevitable consequences of some of them. I became completely comfortable being in my own skin, unlike so many other girls my age in this country. I slept in a train station, in a bus station, on numerous filthy bunk beds, and on a few park benches. I got used to not showering for days at a time, learned to take each day one at a time, becoming completely accustomed to rolling with life’s little knocks.

The nights spent on the beach of Barceloneta are some of my fondest memories of my months of travel. Every evening of our six-day stay there, we would caravan out to the shore to see what adventures we could find. Surrounded by fellow travelers, our languages mixed into a common dialogue, we all sat on the same page for a while. We all used our experiences in Europe to help shape the people we are today and finally experience a feeling of peace within ourselves. Looking back, I know I would be a very different person today, had I not cut my strings and gone out to see another place. The trip also inspired me to travel more and see as much of the world as I can.

On a bus for the last leg of the trip, after almost a full day of traveling, filled with long delays, problems in customs, and almost missing the last ride to Santa Rosa, I weakly exited my last unfamiliar transport and into the open arms of my mother. Even in my delirious stupor, I rattled on about my many memories of the past months. She looked at me and smiled proudly. She saw the change, and she saw how I had finally come into myself, just as she did when she was my age, by going out and seeing the world.