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I'm not going to lie. So far this trip has been hard. Traveling to Berlin alone has been hard. It's been getting better, I'm no longer getting as lost, I'm getting more familiar with what paths I need to take. But I'm leaving for Warsaw tomorrow and it will start all over again. And I can only assume there will be many more days ahead when I'm lost and my feet are bleeding and I'm starting to cry and then a bird poops on me. Although, apparently that is good luck. But I have an inkling it's one of those...

By the time I got off my plane, took a shuttle from the airplane to the terminal, made my way through a ridiculous line to get my passport stamped (and all he did was stamp it, it's easier to get into Europe than into Canada), found a bus, took the bus, got off, got lost, found my hostel, left my bag because it was too early to check in, walked around, sat and stared, drank some orange juice, got lost, found my hostel again, sat and stared, and checked in, I had been awake for 24 hours. The flight wasn't...

Okay, so I don't really expect anyone to read all of this, but you should, because my last three weeks backpacking through Europe fucking rocked my socks off. I loved traveling so much and never wanted to return. So ladies and gentleman, here it is, "What I Did On My Summer Vacation: A Picture Book":   6-22-06 The Plane I used to tell MattH that maybe some day I'd make it to Europe. I'd have to only go to English speaking countries. And I'd have to take a boat for fear of flying. And there I was, on a plane to Munich, Germany....