nine countries, twenty-three trains, five hostels, and one plane in ten days

Where do I begin the story of something so overwhelming, exhausting, and utterly incredible? I, for one, don't quite know. The whole thing was just what I have said: overwhelming, exhausting, and utterly incredible. I was tired; I was ready to come home; and yet I was having the time of my life and ready to go back and live in Austria. . . or Germany. . . or Switzerland. . . or Brugge. . . or England. Not Amsterdam. Holland maybe. But not Amsterdam.

Home. Home is good. At the moment, though I'm home for sure, I still feel as if I don't live anywhere, which is how I've felt for a while, I suppose, and especially the last week living out of a backpack and sleeping on top of my passport and plane ticket. But, Christmas happened so soon after I got home (sooner than you may believe as my sister came home!!! but that meant we celebrated Christmas a day early which was the day after I got home) that I never had time to unpack and now it's already time to repack and move back to Nashville or unpack and move in here, and I don't think I want to unpack twice. Conclusion - it still hasn't hit me that Italy is in the past, and I have to go back to Belmont.

Did I really just spend the last four months in Europe??