It’s hard to believe it’s been an entire year since my journey-of-a-lifetime backpacking EuroTrip of 2004. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it every day. Some apparitions are as brief as a glance at my Mac desktop background: the satin, moonlit harbor promenade of Split, Croatia. Others are more vivid, as I recreate entire evenings in my mind, pacing through memories of European meals, nighttime walks and tiny Italian bars. While this writing session will likely be more therapeutic for me than informative for you, I hope it will give you a glimpse of what inspired me to create this site.

When my mind drifts back, the first things I remember are the smells. Last week, I was on my way to the train when a distinctive scent hit my brain — the sweet aroma of wet summer garbage mixed with cigarette smoke. Immediately I was back in Paris, watching Rue Mouffetard shopkeepers sweep a night’s worth of loose trash and Gitanes into a swiftly flowing stream of gutter water. It’s an intimately familiar smell to the early morning wanderer.

This is not to suggest that there aren’t good olfactory memories from my trip: fresh croissants, roasting kebab meat, flower stands at outdoor markets, vespas — all great things we don’t smell too often in the States.

Now back in my somewhat cynical Chicago routine, I also miss the camaraderie among backpackers. Every year there are thousands of us, hopping from city to city via TGVs and InterCitys every few nights, often skipping countries faster than we can learn “thank you” in the local language. Some find a place they like and stay for a week — or forever. I am reminded of my ad hoc traveling partners Jesse and Steve, whose two-day stay in Interlaken, Switzerland, turned into an unanticipated, eight-night bender. Others try to see every capital from Madrid to Moscow in the time it takes a cyclist to cross Stockholm.

Whether it’s loneliness or instinct that leads to such rapid altruism on the road, I can’t tell. But even tonight, as I sit writing on my back porch nearing midnight, I am transported to the patio at Florence’s Ostello Archi Rossi, where memories of genuine — though short-lived — friendship and many hours of Peroni-enhanced conversation were made in similarly balmy air last May.

Prior to my departure, I swore to my friends and family that Europe wouldn’t change me. This was, after all, my fourth trip there. But this time it was different: no parents, siblings or chaperones. Fending for myself — alone — on a daily basis was my new reality — in a dozen different languages. While I thrived (thus this site), it’s tricky going three months not knowing if you could trust anyone around you.

Before I left, I wrote that my primary reason for the escape was just that: an escape. In reality, living out of a backpack was every bit as normal as life in the States. Heck, most of the foreigners I encountered along the way spoke English. I was hoping for a linguistic challenge; in reality, I had to try to meet Europeans who would offer me a game of multi-lingual charades. I did, however, learn the value of a few things that I had probably always taken for granted: time, companionship, guts and good socks.

From about last July through this January, I swore I was going back to Europe this summer: EuroTrip 2005. I was going to blow my savings on another three months on the road, and then come back and piece things together — again. I fantasized about places I’d never been: Lisbon, Plovdiv, Warsaw, Copenhagen. I had a rough route planned and was already working out the expenses. Then one afternoon I stopped and scrapped the plan completely, deciding to move to New York City instead.

Why? Because a year later, everything is still fresh: the smell of spit-roasting Döner kebab, Dragostea Din Tei echoing from a Czech cafe window, even the suspect fragrance of hostel pillows. To go back this year would have almost been a waste — I’m positive I will appreciate the experience more in another year or two. Until then, I’m left with my memories, photographs, a few friendships I’ve kept from last summer’s trip and an exciting new project: this website.