Reflections on my Gap Year and Expectations for College

What an amazing and ultimately profound year. I've learned so much, done so much and am so proud as I look back and reflect on the last 15 months of my life. To new readers, in summary, I interned at a 501(c)4 PAC, created a blog, executive directed a nonprofit, and traveled extensively in and out of the country. I made new friends, many, if not most of whom, are decades older than I. I checked off life experiences from my bucket list. I read .. the news extensively, books rarely. I listened to music, followed tv shows, and saw lots of movies. I learned to drive, to write awesome and concise emails, and how to schmooz. I gained weight, and I lost weight. I LIVED.

I'm less than 24hrs from matriculating to college. As a creature of habit, I'm overwhelmed but excited by the new future and new normal I face. For the last year, I've essentially been employed, operating to an extent in the "real world." Bull shit was not tolerated; seldom could I charm myself out of a sticky situation. Of course I had family, friends, and mentors invested in my success, but I realized that on the whole, the planet doesn't give a shit about what I did, and how I did it. I really liked that, and quite frankly, am nervous that the superficial community of college -- the one where everyone is over involved in everything in school, were faculty are payed to care about me -- could be a let down. I'm concerned that the transition from not acting like a teenager to again acting like a stupid teenager might be difficult. My shrink, Susan, says this is called anticipatory anxiety, and as a self-proclaimed Woody Allen-esq individual, you could imagine the ruminations ad nauseum.

With all that being said, how fortunate am I to have experienced what life post-education is and now have the opportunity to once again, for four more years, have the opportunity to exist for the purpose of learning. At Brown, of all places, I can take whatever I want, and trust me, I have enrolled accordingly -- Comp Sci and Statistics combined, History of the State of Israel, Psychology of Decision Making, Behavioral Economics and Game Theory, and old school black-and-white Ansel Adams bad ass photography. The prospect to reenter this world is truly exciting.

Taking a gap year has been the smartest choice I've ever made. Post Choate I was totally cooked. Without naming names, I think I too would have fallen pray to college disappointment that so many of my friends have and continue to feel. Upon graduation from high school, my reality was Choate. Even though I nominally new it was la la land, I didn't viscerally understand how privileged and fortunate I was to have been a part of that community. A summer vacation is not enough time to remove yourself from that part of life, to make it a happy memory on which you reflect. Three months is not enough time to gain a sense of perspective. Having been grunt on the bottom of the food chain and having run an organization where my only accountability was to a Board that convened quarterly, I think I'm in the unique position to grab my college experience by the horns.

I know more what I want out of life. Having been in Europe for just shy of two months, I know travel makes me incredibly happy. Having had a job, I realized that money is not necessarily worth complete and total sacrifice and that one can accomplish so many things for not a lot. Having taken a gap year, I think I have a more profound understanding of what it means to live.

One muggy summer afternoon last June, while walking back to the boat, Pete in response to some free floating existential anxiety, noted that his Dad used to say "it's not about how long you live but how well you live." Considering what I've done this year, I'm confident to say I lived quite well.

Thank you Mom, Dad, Charis, Diego, Jorge and all my friends, family, employers, and mentors for making June '11-August '12 the most well lived year of my life to date.

Reykjavik Day 2

Waking up to our thirty second consecutive hour of sun, Gabe and I headed into downtown Reykjavik to the LAUNDROMAT CAFE for a proper and uncharacteristically gluttonous American breakfast. For the majority of our trip, we had grown accustomed to a light pastry and cappuccino. Confidently far away from mainland Europe, we regressed -- Gabe had pancakes, while I had a croque madame, a grilled cheese sandwich complete with bechamel sauce and the gratuitous addition of a fried egg. We were pleased to find a pot of french pressed coffee and cream, which had been surprisingly impossible to find in every other country we had visited on the trip.

After further ambling, Gabe and I returned to our hostel, from where we were picked up by a chartered bus company to complete a tour of the Golden Circle, Iceland's famous driving route that includes stops at Pingvellir National Park, Gulfoss Waterfall, and the Strokkur and Geysir geyser's. With only two days in Iceland, the Golden Circle, along with the Blue Lagoon, is a must, affording one the opportunity to sample much of Southern Iceland's natural beauty in only a half a day.

I mention chartered bus company because it in part represents my primary criticism of Iceland, which is that it is not conducive to budget travelling. As I've told many friend since returning from Europe, Reykjavik has two major streets on interest, and is similar to Newport in terms of the time it justifies; it quickly became apparent that in order to experience Iceland competely, we had to venture out beyond the city. Given the number of Icelanders (only 200,000), cheap and efficient public transportation, something to which Gabe and I had come to regard as our new reality (sorry Amtrak), is sparse. Therefore, one either has to rent a car (prohibited due to our age) or take an equally expensive private bus company.

Nevertheless, we signed up for the tour, and Gabe and I did enjoy all of the sites. Of particular note was Pingvellir National Park, the site of the world's first parliament. Though we only had the chance to see the area briefly from a viewing balcony, I would love to return one day to SCUBA dive along the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates and to hike throughout the area. I also really enjoyed picking the brain of our bus guide, who had a lot of insight to the Icelandic response to the '08 financial crisis.

That evening, Gabe and I "dinner-hopped," sampling famous lobster soup at Saegreifinn (http://travel.nytimes.com/2006/11/12/travel/12bite.html) near the wharf and then heading back into town for Nepalese food. Following dinner, Gabe and I went to KEX HOSTEL for live music, returning at an unknown hour given the complete sunlight which would suggest 6pm anywhere else in the world.

Reykjavik Day 1

We left France by Icelandair and arrived midday in Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland. After having been in mainland Europe for close to two months, arriving in Iceland was culturally jarring. The whole vibe is different from France, with an exacting Swiss-like precision about everything -- Keflavik airport was immaculate, customs efficient, and the people friendly enough with perfect English. Yes, this was convenient, but there is a certain charm in chaos that Iceland lacks.

On the plane, I befriended a flight attendant who was gracious enough to offer a two day best-hits itinerary of Iceland/Reykjavik/surrounding area for us. From the airport and at the recommendation of the flight attendant, Gabe and I went directly to the Blue Lagoon, a natural hot spring heated by the exhaust of a nearby geothermal plant. It sounds toxic, but I'm told it is sustainable, and I can attest the experience is very natural and relaxing. The ride over to the Blue Lagoon is an experience itself, as Iceland is very topographically unique. The endless black lava fields look like the surface of the moon. In addition, there are no trees -- the area is a spartan, but beautiful.

At the Blue Lagoon, Gabe and I had some serious R&R, floating through pools, applying the homeopathic silica to our faces, and exploring the surrounding area and hot springs. The whole facility is really high end and modern. Having relaxed for a few hours, Gabe and I caught the bus to Reykjavik and checked in at the REYKJAVIK DOWNTOWN HOSTEL, which, consistent with our experience in Iceland, was pristine in every way.

Following a quick lunch at the famous Bæjarins beztu pylsur hot dog stand, Gabe and I walked through Reykjavik, along the waterfront, and eventually to the Hallgrímskirkja Cathedral (if you're thinking to yourself how did we manage Icelandic, the answer is we did not), from which we had a 360 view of the entire town. Despite being the capital of Iceland, Reykjavik is quite small. It is actually very similar to Newport, with two major streets of interest and a lot of charming side alleys. That night for dinner, Gabe and I had sushi, and of particular interest was the delicious Mink Whale (I hope they're not endangered, and I won't even dare to find out).

Given its location so far North, Iceland has midnight sun, which is to say, it never gets dark. Gabe and I were out until about midnight, returning to our hostel at a sunlight equivalent of 7:30pm in Boston.

Paris Day 3

Gabe and I wasted no time on our final day in Paris, waking up early to make a second attempt at the Musee d'Orsay. We took the metro to the Louvre, had our usual on-the-go lunch (some type of pastry and coffee, generally), and walked through the Jardin du Tuileriers along the Louvre, after which we crossed the Sienne and queued up in line. Despite the what appeared would be a long wait, the Museum proved unbelievably efficient, and Gabe and I baked in the sun for no more than 20 minutes before entering.

The museum itself is overwhelming; the building that houses the art is a site to behold, and of course, the art is impressive. Given our time constraints and general lack of knowledge, Gabe and I broke with our travelling mantra, and followed the crowds to the noteworthy exhibits and artists -- Monet, Manet, Degas, Renior, Gauguin, and Van Gogh. In part, we can now add additional checks to our bucket/cultured citizen of the world list, but also, I have to say, a lot of the art was really beautiful and moving. 

Of particular note at the museum was not only the art we saw, as one would expect, but instead a really bizarre family, who we observed communicating with each other via SWAT team-esq walkie-talkies and plenty of "roger rogers," "10/4s," and "over and outs." In the presence of such beauty, they were the ultimate caricature of the ugly and conspicuous tourists!

After the Museum, Gabe and I walked to RUE MONTORGUEIL, a famous street in the 2nd arrondissement known for its amazing food offerings -- street side cafes, fish mongers, cheese shops, unbelievable produce, etc. Gabe and I, recognizing this was our last day in France, got our fatty on, and started to sample, purchasing some fresh fruit, sweets, and Chinese dumplings. In fact, we so enjoyed the Chinese food that we returned for a full lunch.

Armed with inordinate amounts of MSG, we found a cafe and people watched for a bit, before taking the metro to Montmarte to visit Sacre Cour, explore the area, and a snap a few pictures of the Paris panorama. We then returned to our hotel, retrieved our packs, and headed to the 10th arrondissement to the TA recommended CHEZ MARIE LOUISE.

Chez Marie Louise was easily the best meal on our trip. I could wax lyrical about the impeccable service, the perfect and inventive preparations, the unbelievable wine, and the generally amazing experience. I think my sister, however, does a better job. What I will say is that it is really easy to spend a lot a money and eat poorly in Paris, and really difficult to spend a moderate amount of money and eat well. The place is a total gem and one I plan on returning to on every trip to Paris. Gabe agrees. After dinner, we caught the metro to Charles de Gaulles Airport, and spent the night at the Sheraton in preparation for the final leg of our journey to Iceland.  

Paris Day 2

Avoiding the 29 euro per person breakfast offered at our hotel, Gabe and I woke early and took the Metro to POILANE, the David Lebovitz recommended Paris boulangerie known for its apple tarts and "p-inscribed" bread. With the addition of some cappuccinos at a random street cafe, we were ready to hit the day full steam ahead Gabe and I collectively agreed the day before to attempt to tackle Paris by foot when possible, as we would 1) compensate moderately for our gluttony and 2) explore the city and its neighbhoods. With that in mind, we walked to the Musee D'Orsay, only to find that it is closed on Monday.

Disappointed but flexible nonetheless, we decided instead to walk over to the Marais in the third arrondissement. The Marais has particular interest for us because it is the Jewish quarter of Paris, and with more time, we would have loved to see the Jewish history museum. We instead queued up at the famous L'AS DU FALAFFEL, ordering Falaffel and Schwarma; we made a picnic on the Place Des Vosges, after which we walked over to the Bastille. We then attempted to try the David Lebovitz recommended BLE SUCRE, famous for their lemon glazed Madelleines, in the 11th arrondissement but found upon arrival it too was closed.

We hopped on the metro to the 8th arrondissement to instead try the world famous macaroons at LADURE. As we would learn, Parisian macaroons are much different than the coconut ones we have for Passover in America, consisting instead of cream sandwiched between two flavored merengue cookies. I personally was not a huge fan, having been put off by the texture, but I can get why people go crazy about them. 

Afterwards, Gabe and I split for the afternoon, and I took the Metro to the Eiffel tower. I wandered for the rest of the day, walking down the Champ de Mars, to the Hotel Des Invalides, and eventually to the Luxemborg Gardens, catching the metro afterwards back to our hotel. That evening, Gabe and I had a late dinner in the Sorbonne, again electing to hoof it back to our hotel by foot. Exhausted, we fell asleep shortly thereafter.

Paris Day 1

From Lyon to Paris ... by high speed train. If one has to pick a way to travel between big cites in France, I'd recommend TGV. Do the math your self -- 300 miles in just under two hours. Given that this was the final leg of our Europe journey by train (the Eurail pass was a godsend), I thought it would be fitting to give a final homage and thank you to the superb and punctual (exception Italy) European train network. Now to Paris.

We arrived at Gare du Lyon just before lunch and took the metro to our hotel, LE MERIDIEN ETIOLE. While we felt like Kings at the Dijon, we thought we were the Pope in Paris -- pure and unadulterated luxury. We dropped off our bags and quickly hit the streets, taking the metro to the David Lebovitz recommended AU PIED DU COCHON, a famous brasserie in the heart of the city. Despite the fact that the restaraunt is shamelessly touristy -- and it is -- Gabe and I enjoyed the experience and are now allowed to say "we did it." We both ordered the French onion soup. Following that, I made, in retrospect, the mistake of ordering the famous fried pig trotter. Again, I'm happy I did it but was put off instantly by the cartilaginous/gelatinous texture and the finger nails still remaining on the pig. I truly lost my appetite when Gabe offered me his nail clipper but take solace in the fact that Gabe (and he agrees on this) ordered the most disgusting thing on this trip -- andouillette. As always, google it!

Following lunch Gabe and I waked to the Pompidou; I personally found it boring, but then again, I'm at the stage of life where I most appreciate art when I recognize it having come across it before through life experience. After the Pompidou, Gabe and I went to the 9th arrondissement to another David Lebovitz recommended site, the Hotel Royal Fromentin ... An absinth bar two blocks away from Moulin Rouge. I thought this bar was one of the highlights of our entire Europe trip (thank you Charis and David, Mom and Dad for the rec). The ambiance was dated in the most charming of ways -- green, old looking, wood intensive. Watching the bartender make the drink was an experience itself; he pours a shot of licorice flavoroud absinth in a glass, suspends two sugar cubes over the rim, and allows ice water to drip slowly, dissolving the sugar for the drink. The buzz that ensues (52% alcohol content) is quite enjoyable.

Afterwards we walked all the way back to the Meridien in the 17th arrondissement, taking over an hour but in doing so exploring neighborhoods street by street. We found a brasserie near our hotel around 10:30, having a late dinner before hitting the hay for a full day to follow.

Lyon, Bastille Day

Cities are generally not my scene. They are big, crowded, expensive ... Need I say more! Lyon falls into those categories. It is in fact big, and you guessed it, crowded and more expensive, but somehow, it won me over with some serious charm offensive. To start, Lyon is considered the food capital of France. I therefore arrived with an open mind, excited, if for nothing else, to eat some really tasty meals.

After dropping off our bags at our hotel, Gabe and I did just that, finding some random cafe along the river. We both had salad lyonnaise, a tasty mélange of amazing French produce (superior to US organic by far), lardons, croutons, and a poached egg. With the addition of rose, our meal was perfect.

By 2pm, we were wandering the town, fighting our food comas so that we could see the Roman amphitheater and Basilaca de Notra Dame de Fourvier across the river. We then came back across the river and explored the pedestrian walkways. As happy hour began to arrive, Gabe and I sat down at some random cafe. Partly through our drinks, two random French kids our age introduced themselves to us, and a long conversation ensued. It's amazing how friendly people here are. Contrary to my instinct of this friendly person "must want to pickpocket us, or worse," it turns out that Europeans are just more open (fear not loyal readers, Gabe and I still remain vigilant). We had a really enjoyable conversation, lasting well over an hour at the cafe, before we split and Gabe and I went to Chez Mounier, a TA recommended restaraunt specializing in cheap Lyonnaise cuisine. Of particular note from our meal were the Quenelles, which are pike flavored dumplings in a creamy lobster sauce. 

After dinner, Gabe and I walked around town, partaking in the Bastille Day activities. Along the river there were multiple live concerts, complete with dance floors for the drunk and soon-to-be drunk to express themselves. The whole atmosphere was so convivial and fun ... Similar to the Fourth of July but without hamburgers. Gabe and I staked out our seat below the chapel early, and by the time the fireworks started at 10:30pm, we were in a sea of well over 100,000 people. After the show, we walked back the hotel, arriving just before midnight and hitting the hay before preparing to leave via TGV high speed train the following morning to Paris.

Quennelle's ... foodgasm