the grand finale.

i loved being a backpacker, but i have to admit the feeling was close to ecstasy when i stepped into the hotel i was meeting my mom at in barcelona. imagine going from an 8 bed mixed dorm room to a luxury hotel- air conditioning, huge beds, a bath tub, and a fluffy towel bigger than texas!

for those of you that didn't know, my mother met me in spain with her friend robyn to "make sure i got on that plane back to texas".

for the first time in the 4 months i was traveling... i rode in one of those tourist double-decker-convertible buses that tour the entire city. it was nice to get some sun and look at stuff, but 8 HOURS LATER mom and i looked at each other and at the exact same moment said, "i'm ready for this to be over." we were having sangria withdrawals!

my mad double-decker-convertible bus photo taking skills. (i got more pics like this than of the city.)

after 8 days of sun, sangria, tapas, and beautiful clothes it was time to head back to america.

(speaking of beautiful clothes, i would like to tell you about the time my mother almost killed me. it's 8:30pm the night before departure, "oh, erin! we have so many euros left over. go get you some clothes from that store you like hunny." she's referring to h&m, the best store ever that doesn't want to be in texas. which i don't know why not, but anyways. i couldn't get their fast enough. but i did, and i elbowed some bimbos who were taking too long to sift through the racks, and i succeded. and lived.)

after 22 hrs. of traveling (barcelona --> geneva --> nyc --> atlanta --> houston -->) i'm back.

damnit.

over the last 4 months i have the time of my life- i went to places i never dreamed i would, i met amazing people and made real friends i wont ever forget, i learned history, and i learned about me. and again i want to say thank you to my most amazing family and friends who have been there pre, during, and post. i am the luckiest girl in the world!!!

and now it is time for "then"!

but before it's the official end, i wanted to tell y'all some about my many (not funny at the time, but hilarious post-trauma) experiences on the european railways.

1- lisbon, portugal

it's our first full day out in lisbon, and i'm with a group of guys and we're heading to belem for those bomb pastries. the train leaves in 5 min. (and the man who told us this said it about 4 1/2 min ago.) i'm first to jump on the train and when my body is half way in i hear a loud "BEEP" and i'm smashed in the closing doors. i squeeze in and make eye contact with anthony, who is on the other side of the window, he runs. the whole group of guys i am with start running and attempt to pry open ever door possible on this train. all i can manage to do when i am alone on this train is raise my hands to my face ("home alone" style) and say "oh, no. oh, no. OH, NO!!!" i forgot to mention that i had no idea where we were, or where we were going. but then i remembered that i am brilliant and pushed a button on the door and they all opened!

2- lisbon, portugal (again)

the next day, on a train to sintra, phil wants to sit on the first car of the train. no big deal, train doesn't leave for 10 more min. as we are walking the length of the train, i say, "man, this really freaks me out. seeing that train right there that we need to be on- and we're not on it." what happens next? "BEEP!!!" engine starting and platform shaking. after we all stopped mid stride and stare at eachother with dumb looks on our faces, i run. again. me. on a train alone and watching these boys attempt to pry the doors open. once i can stop crying (from laughing) i push the button- ta da! i'm a hero.

3- lisbon, portugal (i know, what's the issue, erin?!)

this one is the worst.

i think i'm taking a 10:30pm overnight train to madrid, spain. i have plenty of time, i get a croissant, take a load off, pull out my ticket and.... again with the hands to the cheeks, "oh, no. oh, no. OH, NO!!!" the ticket i have in my hands is for the next night. and then it hit me- you're not in texas anymore, you're not even on the same continent anymore! it's 10:20pm now and i'm in an empty train station. i'm running with my massive backpack in circles around this station, 9 min... 8 min... i finally find an open ticket station, i explain the situation and am watching the man. i can't tell what he's doing, he's not talking, for all i knew he was playing the lotto and cutting his cuticles all at the same time... the clock is ticking, 7 min... 6 min... 5 min... at this point i close my eyes and begin to blackout. "SENORA!" like it's no big deal (and i owe him no big euros) he hands me a ticket for the current nights train that is leaving in 3 min. 1/2 an ambien later- and i'm in madrid!

well... that's it. other than the pain-in-my-ass french and italian railway strikes. maybe it was a portugal thing.

why don't they have to get a job?

i'm thinking the lack of opposable thumbs.

the beginning of the end...

prague. the birthplace of pilsner beer and the wonderbra!

in this bohemian corner of the czech republic, beer is actually cheaper than water.

oh, great. [sarcastic font.]

well- my blonde ''girlfriend'' from berlin is in prague, too. and with her she has her even blonder little sister. we were a blonde-american-sister-sandwitch. after a few [unbelievably, vom-inducing disguisting] shots of absinth we head out to karlovy lane- the biggest and badassest club in central europe.

not.

read the fine print. 'the biggest and badassest club in CENTRAL europe.'

central europe is a term invented by the czech people. and it consists of the czech republic. and maybe austria. if they feel like it.

before we stepped on the dance floor, i was unaware that my blonde companions were serious hip hop dancers. like legit 'pop, lock, and drop it' music video kind of hip hop dancers.

now i know that many of you have seen me do my ''britney spears move''- and you know how amazing it is. for those of you that haven't, just think britney in her crack-head days swinging her hair around [before she cut it all off] while sticking her butt out. i know. so hot. and in my desperate attempt to keep up with these ladies when they would simultaneously bust out into these routine dance moves, i did 'the britney' over and over again. mixed with an occasional 'running man' or some 'roof raising'. i would give anything to see what that looked like. i was sore for the next two days.

some highlights of prague:

-the lennon wall [since the 1980s this wall has been filled with lennon inspired graffiti and beatles lyrics. the young czech people used the wall as a voice during the communist regime.]

-the bone cathedral [kutna hora. holds between 40-70,000 people. this chandelier is made of at least 1 of every bone found in the human body.]

-learning how to play 'shit-head' [don't worry, texas. i'll teach you.]

-the world's largest metranome [i'm sure you're thinking, ''what the what, erin!?'' but hear me out- after WW2, in the spot where the metranome is used to stand a massive statue of stalin. obviously, post velvet revolution, that sucker had to go. fast forward to the year 1996 and enter stage left.... michael jackson. MJ felt that something was missing here. so, he did what any normal human being would do and placed a gigantic [and inflatable] statue of himself in that exact spot. i would have accepted anything less. 2 years later- the metranome. why? no idea.]

i spent a lot of time in prague doing absolutly nothing. i was supposed to be thinking about ''what's next?''. but, being me, i found about 29 other things to think about. all of which were way more important. like, do i want to do my laundry today? or tomorrow? should i have a croissant for breakfast? or yogurt? one night i began talking to an older and wiser woman at the bar [to which my mother still thinks i'm referring to her as this ''older and wiser woman'' as an alias for herself.] and she asked me, ''what would you do if you knew you could not fail?''

my answers are out of control. but it's a start.

and thank god it's off to cesky krumlov so i can push that thought process to the side for a few weeks more weeks now.

oh, cesky my cesky!

this small city quickly crept up to the tope of my favorites list.

no starbucks.

no mcdonalds.

no h&m. [thank you, jesus.]

only minutes after our arrival rumors began floating around that this is the place where the movie ''hostel'' was filmed. [a horror about backpackers being tortured, raped, chopped into tiny bits. no big deal.] also that it was an old mental institution. and a hospital for lupus patients right before they died. either way- this place was creepy.

but this did not stop the good times from rollin'. no words or witty descriptions can do this justice.

the rafting pub crawl.

one afternoon- right at noon to be exact- we venture out on one of the most memorable experiences of our lives. we were driven in a van about 15 k outside of the 'village', dropped off with 2 rafts and told, ''don't die.'' the goal: hit as many bars going down the river as possible. and don't die.

the water proff ''bag'' went from being a premiership champion cup trophy thing for the mantel-pieces [australians... ], to a treasure chest, and then a time capsul with messages from the past to the future. but it wasn't quite the future yet, so we were screwed. we went down wild and crazy rapids. kinda. toughed it out in the freezing rain. and... nobody died!

but for some reason my boat wouldn't let me row. [believe it or not, i begged at one point. who? me?] so i sat there and played the role as the rafts 'dashboard ornament'. i started off as a pair of furry handcuffs and was quickly promoted to fuzzy dice because i chatted it up with some blonde locals who gave us all shots of their rum. the ultimate promotion: the hawaiian hula dancing lady. but i never got there because i quit caring.

at one point, while in a not so serious conversation, i mentioned how, ''y'all australians have about 37 different words for being drunk.'' these dudes got up to 49 in less than 10 min.

ex. pissed, mental, off my tits, off my face, slammed, bent, wrecked, swacked, hooched up, and of course... drunk.

i also made a quick stop in vienna, austria. the only thing i have to report back on from there is that i still don't like veggiemite and i took a shot where my mouth was lit on fire. with real fire. there were no ''don't try this at home'' signs hanging around. so if you're feeling stupid... call me.