Favorite "first" travel memories

I would have to say my favorite (two) memories were both while on my first trip to Europe in 2009. Coming up out of the Underground in London our first day there, only to see Big Ben. Made me realize that I was really, truly in Europe! And to have that experience repeated once we arrived in Paris. Again, came up from the Metro and our first sight was of the Arc d'Triomphe. Another wow, I'm really here moment.

My first memories were when I was very young,, not travelling independently. Flying to Paris when i was little, ,maybe 9., I was a little upset as when we flew over room tops I could see all the buildings were close together, where I came from that was very different,( i thought it looked like what I thought slums must be) , I remember how happy I was to arrive at my grandmothers house and discover she lived in a huge house with a huge yard,, outside Paris. It seemed like a mansion to me, it had a gardner and a cave , a real cave under the house to keep wine! But, the really important memory was when I was 13. I was sent to spend the summer with my grandmother by myself. I flew into Amsterdam who came up from Paris to meet me. She spoke no english. I spoke no french. I remember going the train station. There was a group of older teens/early 20s in the station. I was so enthralled listening to them talk among themselves. They weren't sure where to go next. They had backpacks, and rail passes, and they were discussing where to go and taking a vote amongst themselves.. I just clearly remember thinking,, "wow , I want to do that when I am older". And I did , but at 23, 3 month bumming around with my best friend, best memory of all.

The first time I traveled to Europe was as a 40th birthday present with my Dad and Stepmom. We went to Ireland for 6 nights and 2 nights in London. First night was in Wicklow, we landed in Dublin and hopped in a rental car and drove to the first stop- the Guinness Brewery. At the top while drinking our Guinness, we saw a lovely rainbow just after a passing rain storm. My first favorite Euro travel memory!

I was 21 on a whirlwind tour with the boyfriend. We were in Munich about two months before the Olympics. We were using the ultra clean and modern metro. We were trying to figure out the best way to the Hofbrauhaus. Tony asked a woman sitting nearby. Didn't smile but nodded. We rode 3 stops, she got up, beckoned, we got up and followed her out the door. We walked a block, then another, no words spoken. Came around a corner and she pointed. Ahead was the Hofbrauhaus. We gestured for her to join us, She finally smiled, uttered "Nein," turned around and left. Did I mention she was carrying two bags of grocery items and would not let us carry them for her. I hate to admit this but at that age the only reference point I had of the German people was WWII. That she would literally walk us to the front door, well, the generosity remains with me to this day. As does the fact that I was floored that Merceds Benz were used as taxi's. My 2nd remembrance of human kindness was pre 9/11 at Christmas time in London. My friend and I were flying home the next day. Stopped at Cafe Gloria on Old Hampton Road. The upstairs dining room is the size of a closet. Tables very close. My friend always carries a humongous purse and it was next to her on the bench. Couple came in and sat at the adjacent table. Long story short they were thieves and stole her wallet. All realized after they'd created a diversion and had left. It was a Boxing Day. We called the cops. The officer on duty was so kind, so apologetic. Advised us to call the Embassy. Got us an inside number. All her id including her passport were in the wallet. We phoned, spoke to an on call person who put us through to someone who was at home with his family. We shared our lament.

He advised, go to Virgin airlines security desk in the morning, and tell them to call me. That's exactly what we did. The security advisor called him, scribbled something on a piece of paper, hung up, and walked us to the waiting area. He sat with us for 30 minutes. We talked, laughed, flirted. When it was time to board, he saw us to gate,gave her the piece of paper and bid us goodbye. The personal touch, the ease of it all, the civility and going the extra mile all stand out in my mind. Lastly, traveled with my better half on his first trip to London 5 years ago. Once we'd dropped off our bags we took the tube to Westminster. Exited via the Westminster Bridge/London Eye exit. As he walked into the sun light and saw the River he turned and said "is this the Thames?""Yes, and then I said, "William turn around. Look up" As he did Big Ben chimed 4pm. I'll never forget the look on his face.

Wow, to narrow it down to one... I'll say on my very first trip to Europe years ago, with my wife. I had no interest in going to Italy (or anywhere in Europe, for that matter), but she begged me to go. So, I refused to research any of the trip, never looked at a guidebook before we left and just figured that it was her trip, so she could run it.
Well, we were wondering through Rome on Day 1, and we're going through some side streets and alleys at dusk when I see a McDonald's. Just as I'm about to be annoyed that there is a McDonald's in Rome, I see it. The Pantheon, standing stoicly in the fading light, quietly beckoning me to inspect it's 40' granite columns supporting the portico. Or it's enormous doors, now locked. Or the stairs worn by millions of steps over the millennia. As I slowly approached the church, I was just finally taking in what it meant to be in Europe. To really understand the scale on which Roman's built. I still get chills thinking of that day. I decided on that day, my first in Europe, that I would come back every year to experience this place. So far, so good.

My first trip was to Spain 9 years ago, solo after a terrible relationship break up, leaving the states loaded with heartbreak. Memories of sangria and beautiful Spanish men giving this red head lots of attention. I came back to the states cured of any heartbreak.

I returned a few weeks back from a trip to Paris, Bayeux and Barcelona. Have never been outside of the US other than two trips to Tijuana. ;o) We arrived at about 5 pm, got situated in our apt, walked around for a bit, then went to bed. Since I was still on California time, slept very little. I woke up around 0630 and got into my running clothes. I looked horrible, I am sure....and once I added the money belt under my running tights, I am sure that completed the entire frightening ensemble. Left the apartment and immediately came upon two younger men whom it seems had just finished a night of partying. So I thought this would be a good time to try out my very limited French. "Bon Soir", I said (oh crud, it should have been Bon Jour!!) ...and ran by. They immediately began chattering at me in French. Of course I had no idea what they were saying until I heard the word "Magnifique". I gave a little wave and a "Merci", and chuckled to myself as I ran away, because I knew how bad I looked from any angle, especially from the back. I kept going until I reached the Seine, hooked a left and ran down a bit, then crossed over a brdge and took a right....and continued running alongside the river...looked up, and there in front of me was Notre Dame. The sun was still coming up, and it was just beautiful. I said to myself..."You are running. In Paris. And you have just passed the Notre Dame. I took varying running routes the remaining days we were there, but always ended up running past the cathedral..becausehow often would I get that chance? Having been home for afew weeks, it has been very difficult to muster that same enthusiam for running. Where is the Notre Dame? Where is the river? And where are the younger men telling me how magnifique I look? ;o)

My first trip was back in 1994, to Great Britain, when I was newly married. That was almost my first time on a plane! While I know I had a great time, my memories of it are foggy. I think it was just so much so fast. All I remember are little snapshots - like the kind of memories you have of being a kid. But when I finally returned, this time with my three children 13 years later, I do remember that trip very clearly and the very first thing we did; On the Tube from Heathrow; it's about 8AM there, but it's 3AM in our heads and we've hardly slept at all. The approach into London isn't that interesting or attractive - only subtle differences from home. While I'm excited, everyone else in the family is falling asleep on the train (you can sleep on the 30-minute Tube ride, but not on the plane?!?). For the final few minutes, the train dips underground and we arrive at our Tube stop - Marble Arch. The first thing my groggy family sees is the maze of hallways and escalators buried underground - unusual, yes, but not attractive or particularly recognizable as being "foreign". But finally we emerged from underground and turned the last corner to see daylight... ...and the first thing we saw was a sea of red double-deck buses waiting at the stoplight. I turned to my oldest daughter and saw the biggest smile on her tired face. She was in London.

The moment I fell in love with Venice - our 1st 'big' trip in 2008, coming out of the train station - I thought it was like a fairy tale. We returned in 2010 and are returning again this year for a few days.

Not Europe-based, but when I was 8 my grandfather took me to Hawaii. It was my first trip outside the continental US and certainly my first visit to someplace as cool and exciting! I was really into marine biology then and was delighted at snorkeling and enjoying the shockingly warm and clear water (having grown up on chilly Northern California beaches). At one point I'm snorkeling and I look down and a GIANT sea turtle swims right up under me. Similarly, on a trip to Tulum, Mexico with my husband, we were coming back from a bar on the beach, and it's totally dark (no electricity on that part of the beach back then at night). A person comes running up to us in the dark, scaring us, but they say "SHush, turn off your flashlight and come over here, a sea tortoise is laying her eggs right over there!" We were able to watch her lay her eggs and go back into the ocean, an experience many people go to that part of the world to see but you can't be guaranteed that you'll be lucky enough to witness it. Just amazing. In Europe though, we'd had a stressful time moving here, straight into a dreary German winter. After a few weeks of in-processing and stress and hotel living, we decided to get a railpass (dumb but we were new!) and go SOMEWHERE, anywhere. We decided on Marsielle. Stepping off the train we walked a few feet and could see shimmering cathedral and the sea and the weather was just perfect - it was magical. Sitting outside a cafe an hour later we finally had our "OMG we're in EUROPE! How awesome is this?" moment.

The first time I went to Europe was in the summer of 1985 before my senior year of high school. It was a school-sponsored trip, and it was also the first time I had flown. My very first memory of Europe is when our TWA plane touched down in Rome, everyone applauded. I was so charmed by this! I got a nice feeling of being part of something special. My second memory of being in Europe is after we had disembarked the plane and were walking through the airport to baggage claim: the airport was crawling with military men patrolling in pairs and armed with really big guns. An odd memory to claim as a "favorite," I suppose, but this was my first taste of European vs. American security. Even though it was initially alarming, no one really gave them a second glance. When we were being driven from the airport to our hotel, I kept taking pictures through the bus windows of all the fountains. It seemed like there was a fountain on every corner! It wasn't till the next day that I realized the fountains I was shooting were utterly pedestrian and plain. But who knew? You don't see things like that in Seattle! (P.S. I laugh at those photos now.)

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