If I was only granted one word to describe our tour through Europe, I know exactly which word I would pick: unforgettable. Those 26 days will likely never leave my mind, as long as I live; because each memory I made is one that I will treasure for years and years to come. The beer gardens of Munich, the coffeehouses in Vienna, and especially the chocolate in Zurich left indelible impressions upon me. Indelible impressions are all well and good of course, but I’d like to assert that sometimes they’re quite overrated. Sometimes the best trips are the ones that leave you with very hazy memories that may be from the trip or from some other day entirely. Those are the adventures that you really remember (just not very well).
I could sit here at my computer and type out an exact minute-for-minute description of all the hijinks, antics, and foibles (foibles? (yeah, foibles)) I got into in Dijon. I could definitely do it too. I could recount tales that would have readers on the edge of the edge of their seats. Tales that would put U2 lead guitarist The Edge on the edge of his seat.
Despite that potential, I have a sneaking suspicion, a sneakspicion if you will, that you good people don’t really want to hear about that. So I’m going to keep my Rebecca Caudill Award-winning stories to myself. It’s not because I can’t remember what I did in Dijon. I’m insulted that you would think such a thing.
Even if I didn’t remember where we stayed or what I ate or what the church look liked, would that be so bad? If my recollection of our day in Dijon were a bit fuzzy (which it most certainly isn’t), would that make me a bad guy?
Can I level with you guys? I have a confession to make, and it may come as a bit of a shock. I don’t really remember what took place during our brief stay in Dijon. Why this is the case, I’m not so sure. Maybe a radioactive spider bit me. Maybe I was abducted and my captors removed a very small sliver of my brain. Or if we want to get outlandish, maybe we were experiencing so many once-in-a-lifetime things per day, and sometimes it was a little hard to keep up. I guess my brain only has enough space for so many unforgettable memories at a time.
I know one thing for sure: Our day in Dijon was filled with great music, and even better times between friends. I can know this with absolute certainty because those two things are at the very heart of the Glee Club. That, and being totally baffled by the metric system.
Hunter Kuffel is a rising junior from Geneseo, Illinois. That’s about all we know about Hunter, but if you’d like to ask him some questions yourself, here’s his email address: Hunter.D.Kuffel.firstname.lastname@example.org.
This is the ninth post in a twelve part series chronicling the Glee Club’s recent tour of Europe. If you’d like to hear an account of the trip that has a little more detail, read the next post from Michael Moss about our time in Le Mans.