The journey starts in Nice

We gazed at the spread of crusty bread, two kinds of cheese, yogurt, strawberries and a bottle of Sylvaner white wine in our small budget hotel room.

We made it. The tearful goodbyes from the mothers, the long overnight flight, one Bette Midler movie For the Boys, the Jelly Bellies from our friends, an unexpected stopover in London, two missed buses at the Nice Côté d’Azure airport, a closed tourist office.

We were in Europe. The first day of our three and half month backpacking trip.

My friend Sarah and I had been planning this trip for months. With high school done, we were ready to take on the world!

If only we could open the wine bottle.

Little bits of cork floating around in our glass, we savored the freedom, the sense of adventure, and the first of many bread and cheese meals.

We saw the turquoise sea, the rocky shores, the old town, and even a museum, but Nice will forever be in my memory the place we landed March 28 to begin our backpacking trek. Point A on our map.

My return plane ticket was crammed away in a hidden pocket in my ginormous backpack, my traveling home for the next 15 weeks. The path to London, our Point B on the map, was yet to be discovered. To shape our journey, we put our trust in one guidebook, Let’s Go Europe, a Eurorail pass and an International Youth Hostel card.

It was all ahead of us.