Love in another language

“I’ve been wondering if it is truly possible to have a relationship with someone to whom I can’t fully express myself, nor whom I completely understand,” I wrote in my journal March 22, two months into my study abroad experience in Santiago, Chile, and two weeks into dating el chico.
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Benedict Cumberbatch and other stories from London

On July 4, I stepped out of St. Pancras train station and into my storybook land. I was one of those kids who grew up with a weird obsession with England. I was raised on a diet of British fantasy novels by Roald Dahl and Eva Ibbotson. I pretended to be
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I left my comfort zone in Edinburgh

The most nervous I can remember being in a long time was staring between the clock and the door from my seat on the bus, just minutes before it was due to leave for Scotland. There wasn’t a lot of help available for my friends and travel buddies this late
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Life lessons from Barcelona

The thing about going from London to Barcelona in July is that you don’t realize that you’d forgotten what heat really feels like. Even late at night, I might as well have stepped off the plane and into a sauna. Summers in London are mild and cloudy. Needless to say, that’s
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Amsterdam and Paris: a tale of two cities

The first thing I noticed about Amsterdam was that our cab was a Tesla. Your taxi’s make and model aren’t things you think about, like, ever. But when your first experience in a new place involves a (pretty attractive) driver in a suave gray suit and tie whisking you away to your
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How to cope when your friends study abroad for summer

A side effect of attending the world’s No. 1 public university is the fact that opportunities continue even when school doesn’t. Among our many study-abroad options for summer 2015 are programs in China, France, Spain … countries around the world. Sure, this is good news for those of us who want
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Assorted clichés: my unwritten travel blog

I walked assuredly down the street a couple weeks ago in Paris, iPhone in hand and overstuffed backpack secured firmly to my shoulders. My passport and wallet hung tightly to the right side of my body in an ugly, copiously zippered black satchel I purchased before going abroad — something
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