Amidst the cacophony of squealing breaks and arguing family members, the British voice of the GPS in our rented Volkswagen calmly instructed us to turn left at the roundabout and “head straight on.” In the middle of an open road somewhere between Leicester and Stratford-Upon-Avon, my mother tried to simultaneously adapt to driving on the left side of the road, remember how to operate a stick-shift car, listen to both the GPS’s directions and my father’s objections and appreciate the beautiful scenery of the English countryside. We took advantage of the invitation to attend a family friend’s wedding in England by planning a 10-day family vacation rife with road trips, sightseeing, fish and chips and beer.
Before we left, I was most excited for the touristy things—Big Ben, the Tower Bridge, Stonehenge, Westminster Abbey, Platform 9 3⁄4, etc. Reflecting on my vacation now, what I remember most isn’t what I saw, but rather how I felt. I don’t remember what we laughed about during all those hours in the car, and my memories of the interior of Westminster Abbey are fading with each day, but I can so vividly recall how utterly happy I was to be surrounded by foreignness and new experiences. For 10 days, I finally felt like I was truly living, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more. I basked in the comfort and beauty of family, travel, friends, celebration, history and great food. And I still got to be a little touristy.