. t h r e e m o n t h s .
  • Reads 22
  • Votes 2
  • Parts 1
  • Time 7m
  • Reads 22
  • Votes 2
  • Parts 1
  • Time 7m
Ongoing, First published Nov 24, 2014
i thought i would write down some of the experiences i gained during the exchange program in which i participated, that had someone who i didn't know at all stay in the same room as i for three months in germany and me staying in that persons room for three months in france
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Left Alone In Paris by KatyAshby
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"I never meant to actually miss it!" I squeal to the desk lady, but she doesn't seem to understand my language. Ha, no pun intended! Sorry, I shouldn't be joking right now. "Desole, ma Cherie. Je ne parle pas en anglais, et t'attrape l'aero." I shake my head, "I don't know what you mean." My head turns back and I scan the room for other tourists, but none of them catch my eye. Back to the desk lady, is she a clerk? An attendant, or what? What is she? I slam my fists on the desk, "Get me back to my country! I need to get home, and I don't know why you don't speak English, you work in a freaking airport!" Behind me a ruckus takes place, but I ignore it, "I want my money back if you won't let me go home! I paid for this! I paid a lot to come here, and go home! It was a two-way ticket! Round trip!" And two security guards take hold of my arms, controlling me in their gibberish, and leading me away from the desk. ~ Meet Aria, younger sister, American gamer, cat-crazy, anime-freak, and now stuck in France. Sometimes she does the wrong thing, or her college-age-brother-influenced mind takes over and things just get worse for her. And when her brother leaves her behind while boarding the plane home, everything goes downhill from there. She gets in trouble by security, embarrasses herself in front of several elite students, meets an arrogant French boy... countless times. Who is she kidding, this should be fun! She's stuck in Paris! No. Being stuck in Paris is the worst idea anyone could ever deal with.
My Backpacking Memoirs by AtomicJoe
38 parts Complete
In 2017 I embarked on a three month backpacking trip around Europe. Motivated by the many accounts of travel from within religion, I went to learn. But what I experienced was not what I was expecting. This was my first time leaving the UK since I was a child and my expectations of travel and Europe were wildly out of touch. I met more people in these three months than I had in the previous ten years and had many new experiences. I was naive and many of the people I met on my travels could tell just how naive I was. Overland by bus, train and ferry through 17 countries: England, Scotland, France, Belgium, Netherlands, Germany, Czech Republic, Poland, Slovakia, Austria, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, Greece, Italy and Switzerland. To 35 locations: Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Paris, Brussels, Antwerp, Ghent, Bruges, Amsterdam, Berlin, Dresden, Leipzig, Frankfurt, Prague, Krakow, Brno, Bratislava, Vienna, Budapest, Timisoara, Sibiu, Brasov, Bucharest, Sofia, Thessaloniki, Litochoro, Athens, Delphi, Naples, Rome, Venice, Milan and Lugano. It is an account of backpacking around Europe, both the best and worst of European backpacking hostels. Long bus journeys, hitch hiking and plenty of walking. I'm not proud of my behaviour or the events surrounding this three month period of my life, but I am proud to have forced myself to do it. I hope that my story will reach people who are in similar positions to what I found myself and to plant the seed of travel as a solution to those problems. Sometimes running away is the solution. It has also been several years since my backpacking trip and I find myself constantly trying to piece my memories together. Not always knowing what city or even country a memory occurred. I feel like my memories are deteriorating so I decided to document them before fall apart completely. I'm not a writer at all and I have tried to be as honest as possible, to my own downfall. I'm open to any advice about how I can improve it.
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The First

30 parts Complete Mature

I was the first. I arrived in the Glade, and there was nothing and... no one. I remembered nothing about who I was, who my parents were, what happened. A few days I remembered my name, and that's it. That's all that ever came back. There were four walls surrounding me with only one exit. I wanted to go through, so I did, in hopes of finding my way out. What I found lurking on the other side was not an exit but something much worse. I found my way back, and I spent the next month fending for myself. Food, water, a temporary shelter. After a month, someone else arrived, and this person arrived with supplies. Every month a new person was sent up. Every arrival was the same as mine. They couldn't remember anything. I was the first one here, and that means that I call the shots, I make the rules, and I run the place.