Confessions of a Travelling Burger

My study abroad experience in Poitiers, France taught me a lot of valuable lessons. The first lesson I learned was that I hated small towns. I'm from Los Angeles, the land of traffic, smog, and dogs that fit in purses. Small towns are the equivalent of waiting in line; unless you cut into someone else's business, there's nothing to do once your phone battery dies. The second lesson was that I hated Poitiers. I could write an epic novel on the nightmares that continue to haunt me from that place, but my therapist suggested I should focus on the positives. And to also stop stealing wine glasses from fancy restaurants.

'Twas the night before Toussaints and all through the town, not a creature was stirring, because, well, they were all still eating dinner at 9pm. It was also Halloween, so naturally, I was fully dressed as a sunflower. My friends and I were doing what we did best, buying 2 euro champagne and desperately looking for entertainment. As we paid, a seemingly young man eyed our costumes. "Ah, you must be Americans." He said in French. My first phrase I learned in Poitiers. "Superman, Iron Man, a sexy nurse..." He named off our costumes, then paused at me. "What are you?"

"I'm a sunflower." Naturally.

He shrugged his shoulders, scoffing. "Yellow is not your color." Thank you seemingly young French man. Now I know. As we walked out of the store, he called after us in a haunting voice. "You Americans stay out of the graveyard. The spirits will be out to play."

We obviously went to the graveyard. The main gate was locked, but it was no match for our American public education system. Superman tore his pants and I sprained a leaf, but we made it over the eight feet. The rest of the night was a blur of alcohol and midnight fog, but there are a few things I do remember: Belting Bohemian Rhapsody, making up life stories for tomb inhabitants, eating a baguette (which was weird since none of us brought it), swimming in a pool (???), and actually thoroughly enjoying myself. It was the turning point for my whole experience. One cold drunken night illegally prancing around in a cemetery. This was the kind of travelling I wanted to do, not just go on tours to learn who built the churchyard gravel in 1486. I found enlightenment in a (literally) scary new place in the arms of the people I loved (and one I secretly hated). I like finding adventure in the unexpected, and what was more unexpected than an /adventure/ in /Poitiers/? That said, I am never going back.