Cayla McKenzie
23. Writer, musician. Books, dogs, tea, design, gardens.
Amsterdam, Dublin, Edinburgh…
I love you. I want to be back with you again, drinking tea in the morning in our adopted Scottish grandparents’ flat, riding bikes and hoping not to get flattened by extreme Dutch cyclists, dangling feet over the Cliffs of Moher…
What a beautiful, eye-opening trip we had. It’s strange to be back in the concrete Columbia jungle, though I’m not elitist enough to say that it isn’t good to be back in the comfort of home.
I want to get into a detailed, fantastically worded account of all that we saw and did, but I’m not sure I trust my words enough to explain it all in the right way. Maybe I’ll tackle it later. But for now, just this: until we meet again, Europe! 

Amsterdam, Dublin, Edinburgh…

I love you. I want to be back with you again, drinking tea in the morning in our adopted Scottish grandparents’ flat, riding bikes and hoping not to get flattened by extreme Dutch cyclists, dangling feet over the Cliffs of Moher…

What a beautiful, eye-opening trip we had. It’s strange to be back in the concrete Columbia jungle, though I’m not elitist enough to say that it isn’t good to be back in the comfort of home.

I want to get into a detailed, fantastically worded account of all that we saw and did, but I’m not sure I trust my words enough to explain it all in the right way. Maybe I’ll tackle it later. But for now, just this: until we meet again, Europe!