And now back to things we wrote Europe journal that we just found and man, we were 24 and just a baby who wrote about food too much.

... Then we arrived at the train station, and it was the first sense of overwhelmingness that I've felt since our journey began.

I had to get our tickets.

"Bon jour, misseur," I said to the man in the window.

"Bon jour," he said.

"Deux, uh, tickets to Paree," I said, quickly losing confidence.

"...," he said.

"Parlais vous Anglais?" I said.

"NON," he replied.

Shit. I showed him our Europasses, and he said they'd be OK as tickets. I asked him again if he spoke English and felt like a complete nimrod.