Nineteen years ago, I was sitting in the living room of a beautiful old home, with the first girl I ever fell in love with and her older-than-the-average parents. The television rarely strayed from C-SPAN during the day, but when we all sat for meals, it was time for public television and Rick Steves. Rick created a travel show in the early 90's to bring Europe to American living rooms and teach people how to have a local experience. I was hooked.
In college, I purposefully sabotaged that relationship so I wouldn't stand in the way of the great things she was capable of. The first love of my life was smart, beautiful, motivated, and was going to make an impact on this world. She spent a summer in West Africa building a school and ended up getting a doctorate in epidemiology from a prestigious university. I still download the National Public Radio show 'Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me' on Saturday evenings to listen to before bed to remind me when she and I would stand around her kitchen counter listening.
My fascination with European travel was stoked by a television show and a desire to be interested in everything she was interested in. I own more Rick Steves' books than it would be healthy to admit, but
Europe Through the Backdoor became my bible on how to navigate the continent and experience the sites and culture the way I wanted to. On my many trips abroad, this book helped me find the secret entrance to the Louvre to avoid the lines, get a table at a cabaret when the place was sold out, or ride a commuter train to Pompeii for cheap instead of paying for the bus tour.
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