Sometimes a new adventure presents itself and you have to swallow hard and do it. This week, I was in Paris with my friend, Beth. Ever since I decided to study here, Paris had been stuck in the back of my mind. To see the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame, that would be something to write home about. Our plan was to take the overnight train from Valladolid on Thursday and arrive in Paris Friday morning. We would have most of Friday, Saturday and Sunday to explore the city until another overnight train took us back to Valladolid Sunday in time for classes Monday.

Excitedly we went to the train station in Valladolid and bought tickets for a sleeper car leaving around 9:30 p.m. We walked out of the station high-fiving our adventurous spirits and spontaneity. We were going to Paris!

As Thursday came closer, my excitement began to wear a little thin. The worried expressions on my friends and teacher’s faces made me start to wonder if this wouldn’t be my first taste of trouble. Their anxious expressions and repeated warnings about pick-pocketing and walking late at night started to make me think this trip wasn’t such a good idea.

And then other worries started crowding in.

For example, I don’t speak any French — never studied it, never really heard it spoken. Beth had taken a summer course the year before, but I wasn’t sure if that would be enough to parlez-vous us out of a bad situation. Then there was money. I spent over $100 for my train ticket and the exchange rate between the franc and the dollar is not a very happy one. I hadn’t planned on this expense, how would I be able to afford the rest of my time in Spain? The Tuesday before we left, I thought Paris might be a bad idea.

As I sat in my room feeling sick and scared, I suddenly knew I had to go. Maybe it was pride, maybe I couldn’t back out on Beth, but I started looking at the situation from a different perspective.

If I couldn’t handle this step out of my comfort zone, what would I do the next time something new came along? I was scared, but I needed to go.

Thursday, I was at the station in Valladolid with Beth, ready to get on the train and face what fate had in store — it was incredible.

Everything wonderful you have ever heard about that city is true. As we walked around the Louvre, went to the Eiffel Tower and attended mass at Notre Dame, I wondered how I could have thought this trip wasn’t a good idea. Every new corner added to our enchantment. We were in Paris!

And everyone spoke English.

So I have some new pictures to add a little variety to my Spanish scrapbook when I get back to the States and a little more confidence in myself that I didn’t have before.

Life is all about change and trying new things; it’s what helps you learn and gives you stories to tell your grandchildren. Now this isn’t a blanket statement covering new experiences like taking drugs, having unprotected sex or driving in Madrid, that might have a little more of the danger element. Remember that you do want to tell your grandchildren about it someday. What it does mean is allowing yourself to feel a little out of place every once in a while.

I know the next time an adventure knocks on my door and hands me an overnight train ticket, I’ll be ready to go. I can’t wait to see where it takes me.

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Andrea Hauser is a junior in journalism and mass communication from Edgewood, Iowa.