To infinity and beyond...

I know that my blog and social media posts make it seem like I am doing more "abroad" than "study." Well looks can be deceiving. Didn't your mother ever tell you to not judge a book by its cover? But in this case, the cover does tell the story.

You open the book, and quickly discover a fairy tale of European adventures. Our story begins with a knight in shinning armor and his damsel in less-than-distress.

They traveled Europe on their trusty metal steed whom they appropriately named Metro. They walked through enchanted forests and got help from some unexpected friends. And they climbed to the tallest room of the tallest tower, where he discovered that his sleeping beauty had been with him all along. You turn the page to realize that the rest of the book is blank, ready for the new adventures that are to be told...

After spending Semana Santa in Greece with the kids, Mom and Dad needed a vacation from their vacation. So they packed their bags and got as far away from them as possible. So far in fact, that they actually found the end of the world!

Cape St. Vincent is the most southwestern point in Portugal; it was believed that this is where the sunset was the largest and most beautiful because the world ended at the sea's horizon. So the prince and his princess journeyed to the end of the world only to discover that the world is in fact round.

But that disappointment was made up for when they cruised on a pirate ship, sipped coffee at world's end, and beached the days away.

So remember, things are not always as they appear. Unless I appear to be having fun. Then yes, that part is very true. Stay tuned for the happily ever after...

Go Greece Lightning...

For whatever reason (although some may call it addition), I find it difficult to begin these blog posts without a pot of caffeine pumping through my veins. Call me dependent. Call me a junkie. But I say, whatever gets the job done. Even if that job is being tackled a solid three weeks late. ~this has been a behind the scenes look at the making of A Human Max in a Dog's World

Χαίρετε. Μιλάς αγγλικά? Translation? Hi, I'm a desperate American tourist who is hoping and praying that you speak English because it's all Greek to me.

These were the words the Greece Group lived by as we explored the island of Rhodes in our black, leather jackets with a cigarette in hand. We searched for the best root-beer floats and drive-in theaters Greece has to offer, but in reality, we find ourselves wondering if this Spring Break trip even happened because it was straight out of a fairy tale.

After an unreal two days with my parents and a less than magical goodbye (only than 33 days until I see my family, but who is counting anyway?), I found myself on a train and a bus and an airplane and a subway and a taxi and another plane and another bus toward the island of Rhodes. Instagram doesn't exactly show that side of travel. Only almost-fictional posts like this...

 

We spent an afternoon at the beautiful St. Paul's Bae...I mean Bay. Where we swam in some freezing, but beautiful water...

...made friends with a donkey, and overheard a British woman in her British accent in a condescending British way say, "I think they're talking to a donkey."

We hiked to the Acropolis of Lindos, dropped a punk rock album, and I resisted the urge to go cliff diving. You're
welcome, Mom.






After exploring the ancient ruins of the Old Town of Rhodes, the words "that's some old ass shit" were permanently on our lips. And they only continued as we were lead around Athens by the most local of tour guides. Molly's friend from elementary school so graciously welcomed us into her house, fixed us food, and even showed us around the city. Greeks are some of the friendliest people I have ever met. If you have the opportunity, GO TO GREECE!

The Parthenon in Athens is just as incredible as I had imagined. Europe is even more incredible when entrances are free...gotta love being a student. Maybe I wont ever graduate.

Greece lacked slicked back hair, poodle skirts, and sock hops, but that doesn't mean I didn't love every minute...minus the 2 that it took me to drink my Greek coffee. You're dumbfounded; I know. A coffee that Max didn't like? Well they do say that caffeine is bad for dogs...

The parent trap...

I'm convinced even Akeelah from the Bee doesn't have a sufficient vocabulary to recount one of the best weekends of my life. Yes, Mom and Dad. I'm talking about my very short but very filled 46 hours.

"If we were meant to stay in one place, we'd have roots instead of feet." After three months of incredible travel, life-changing experiences, and profound soul-searching (but don't forget the times of desperation, homesickness, and exhaustion) I found myself back in Florence, Italy...but this time, with MY PARENTS!!!

One of the beautiful things about travel is it teaches you to make a home wherever are. At the same time, it reminds you of where you come from. And if you're really lucky, your roots find YOU! Last Thursday I was reunited with two of my favorite people in the world in one of my favorite places in the world.

Our two days together were filled with smiles, coffee, wine, and adventure. You know...McGehee things. We did Florence's highlights; shopped at the subpar mall, admired the "Florence Y'all" water tower, and...oh my bad. Wrong Florence. 

We did, however, see David at Galleria dell Academia, shop in the central market, visit Pisa, enjoy a sunset at Piazzele Michelangelo, and try Florentine steak. We lost ourselves in both the streets and Ino's paninis. And took many shots together...of espresso that is. 

But a McGehee vacation would not be complete without some problem. Sometimes I feel like the world is saying, "things are going too well for you. Let's mix things up a bit." To begin, Mom, Dad, and I are traveling to the Amalfi Coast by train. 

Beautiful, isn't it?!? I wouldn't know...

Mom had read in her travel book that train workers are known to go on strike on Fridays if the weather is nice. So Mom, Dad, and son all travel three hours by train, make it to the stop just before their destination, and...anyone want to fill in the blank? The workers go on strike. Ouch, struck out looking. Which, ironically, can be shortened as SOL (a colloquial way of saying "sucks to suck" AND the name of the most amazing study abroad program on the planet). 

But not even this could damper our McGehee moral. I mean, just look at these faces. 

This was a weekend that I will truly remember and cherish for the rest of my life. Thanks Mom and Dad for letting me third-wheel on your 25th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY! I love you. 

A-frican loved this weekend...

~Dear Ms. Coffee,

The silence in our relationship is deafening. You have left me with a bitter taste in my mouth, which I can't seem to rid myself of. I wanted to stick behind the idea that it's not you. It's me, but it was only a matter of time before I realized that relationships are a two way street.

I am writing to you a second time, because I need you to take responsibility for your faults. But I can't expect honesty from you without first cleaning my own slate. I have cheated on you. Repeatedly. They say people start off justifying their wandering hands. I blamed mine on being away from you when I was sick, cold, and alone. But at some point, I started to enjoy our distance.

And I admit, I have a problem. It doesn't matter if I am safely in Granada, Spain or at a trashy bus stop in Tetouan, Morocco, I still succumb to the warmth that one euro can buy me. Please, Ms. Coffee, be understanding. Moroccan mint tea was a one time thing and didn't bring me the lasting warmth that our relationship once had. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'll be waiting at 4:00 pm in our usual spot: 7 Gatos Cafe.

My sincerest apologies.~

That Moroccan tea was one of the only warm experiences from this weekend. Who would have thought that I would go to Africa in my winter coat and scarf and be dodging rain AND HAIL?!? Nonetheless, I'm still in shock that I traveled to Africa. I have now visited 4 continents (although, Spain teaches their students that there are only 5...I figured the whole world would be taught the same geographical information, but you know what they say about assuming.)!

This weekend I entered the (blue) Wizarding World of Harry Potter and lost myself in the streets of Chefchaouen, Morocco-The Blue Pearl. Everything that you see is blue: the walls, the doors, the signs, the stairs, and even the street itself sometimes. They say the blue repels bugs and insulates the city, but I think it was a calculated plan to attract American tourists with iPhones and an obsession with sharing on social media.

Regardless, I couldn't be happier with my decision to hop on a (very unstable) ferry and cross the Straight of Gibraltar. Being in Africa brought back memories from when I was very young. No, I haven't been to Africa before, but I the camel exhibit at the Cincinnati Zoo is basically the same thing, right? I can remember a camel ride with my Dad which turned south very quickly after being stung by a bee. Traumatizing, I know. I am happy to announce that I successfully rode a camel in Tanger, Africa without being stung by a bee. One camel, however, did plant a wet kiss on my cheek.

Mom, I am also proud to say that no laws (to the best of my knowledge) were broken this weekend. It was just a regular, boring weekend of playing on beaches, befriending camels, and exploring foreign cities.

Though I loved being immersed in the beautiful Arabic culture, I am so happy to be back in Spain where I can actually understand the language.

~This could be a cuss word for all I know~

Until next time, be praying Ms. Coffee and I can repair our relationship.

When life gives you pomegranates...

As I mentioned in my last post, I am "studying" in Granada, Spain. Granada, when translated from Spanish to English, means pomegranate. Let's take a moment to consider how weird that is. I'm living in a city called Pomegranate. There would never be a Pomegranate, Kentucky or Pomegranate, Utah. Okay, maybe in Utah. It's a pretty strange place.  

Pomegranate, Spain, on the other hand, is quite beautiful.

I have been in this wonderful city for one month now. That's crazy! And in this month I have skied the Sierra Nevada's, visited cathedrals, eaten way too many tapas, run the cobblestone streets, participated in authentic Spanish food tasting, and become an adult...and by that I mean figured out how to use the post office, grocery store, public transit, medical clinic, and pharmacy. 

There is nothing worse than being sick while away from home. But don't fret, Mom, I have made friends with a very large pot of tea.

~Dear Ms. Coffee,

We have spent many good years together. When I was alone, you sat with me. When I was upset, you helped me through. When I was happy, you celebrated with me. Because of your faithfulness, I feel I owe you this explanation.

It's not you. It's me. I haven't betrayed you, and you know I would never cheat on you. Sometimes people just need a break to realize what they are missing. Even Lily and Marshall went there separate ways for a short period of time. Please have patience with me and trust that I'll return to you soon.

My deepest regrets.~

One thing that I haven't done in my month in Granada is hike the Sierra Nevada's. My study abroad group intended to go this weekend, but rain cancelled our plans. But when Granada gives you pomegranates, you make POM Wonderful. 

Europe must inspire spontaneity, because within 3 hours we had booked bus tickets and an Airbnb for 10 people to Madrid. McKinley celebrated her 21st birthday in Spain's capital! Casual.

Together we visited Palacio Real de Madrid, Parque del Retiro, and Museo Nacional del Prado (and I got way too excited about the art. It was worth paying attention in my History of Spain class last semester)! But most importantly, I drank the best coffee I've had in Europe. But for now, if you need me, I'll be in Pomegranate, Spain. 

Attempting to study while studying abroad...

The title says it all. For those of you who have kept up with my regular postings to Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat (wow, I really am traveling in the 21st century), you will understand why attempting to study couldn't be truer. It'll be impressive if I ever manage to study in the normal sense of the word. I like to think of my adventures as a form of studying the culture...at least that's how I'll present it on scholarship applications ;)

Traveling in the 21st century with access to the internet in almost every cafe, makes me truly impressed by those who traveled abroad before me. My Uncle Gil backpacked through Europe when he was only 19. First: I'm about to be a senior in college, and the only recipe I have mastered is spaghetti. So props to you, Uncle Gil, for doing this. Second: With the internet readily available, it is so easy to stay connected to home...and bring these wonderful blog posts and pictures right to your handheld screen.

Today marks 51 days that I have been abroad! That number is incredible to me because it is the longest I have ever been out of the United States and will only continue to grow until May 20th. (Mark your calendars!! This dog will eventually find his way back home...only to run away to Taiwan two weeks later. They don't eat dogs in Taiwan, do they?)

I have been living in Granada, Spain for 26 days...and we watched the sun set from this view point on day 1. So basically I'm a Spaniard.

I'm studying at the University of Granada, where I am taking classes in grammar, writing and conversation, Spanish literature, Spain in the media, and volunteerism (I'm volunteering every week with students with aspergers as a part of an internship). As I said before, I'm attempting to study, but how do you expect me to do that when I'm surrounded by the Sierra Nevada's???

We went skiing in the Spanish Sierra Nevada mountains the first weekend (we don't waste any time)! I'm standing in line for one of the lifts when I realize there is another to my left with fewer people and is moving much faster. So I ski down to it, glance at the "Experts Only" sign, and decide to go for it. "I'll just ski slowly and make wide turns. Dad will be so impressed by me." (That is exactly how I rationalized the situation and convinced myself to continue.) Let's just say that the ski lift took a long, long time to reach the drop off point. And that's because it crested the summit of the mountain...so high that I was above the clouds and could not see the lodge. 

~I cussed a little bit~

It took me 15 minutes to ski down to the lodge. But that includes a few minutes where I had to recollect my skis after losing them on a patch of ice and sliding down what felt like half the mountain. Nonetheless, I made it, and then continued to ski from the lodge down the rest of the mountain to the village. How many people can actually say they skied a mountain from top to bottom?

So in one week, I had enough adrenaline pumped through my veins to last me an entire month. How will I ever top that?! Sorry, Mom. 

I guess I'll fill the void with caffeine. Thank you to those who made it to this point. Have a coffee on me! Or maybe refill my cup, please. 

Continuing to run in foreign countries...

"Traveling is the only thing you pay for that makes you richer." That's at least how I'm justifying this trip's price tag. With that being said, I am very fortunate to have parents who are so willing and able to support me while I am across the pond. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you! And thank you to those who have continued to pray for my safety.

McKinley and I visited 6 countries in 18 days! If this leg of the trip were a track event, it was definitely the 100M dash. We then slowed down the pace (most would disagree) and spent a whole week in Italy visiting Venice, Florence, and Rome. Brace yourself:

 Piazza San Marco, Bridge of Sighs, gelato, pizza, Plazza Ducale, Jewish Ghetto, more gelato, Ponte di Rialto...

Piazzale Michelangelo, gelato, wine and cheese at sunset, Leaning Tower of Pisa, Cathedral, Duomo, more gelato and pizza...

 Vatican, Sistine Chapel, St. Mark's Cathedral, Colosseum, Spanish steps, Trevi Fountain, 

Pantheon, and even more gelato and pasta!

Oh, and we shared a hostel with a nun.

 Yup that's Italy in a nutshell.

But no travel would be complete if all went according to plan! 

McKinley and I may have spent too much time trying to make it look like we were supporting the Leaning Tower of Pisa and then had to full out run the mile back to the train station only to hop on seconds before it took off. And when leaving Florence for Rome? Yeah...our directions didn't take us to the bus stop. So there goes Max and McKinley, running around the streets frantically asking for directions in Spanish with an Italian accent to anyone we run into ;)

Although speaking Spanish in an Italian accent is fun, I'm sure they don't appreciate it. So I'm happy to finally be in a country where the people (sometimes) understand me. Stay tuned for more adventures from a dog in a foreign place. 

Where in the world...?

For those of you who may not know me but enjoy living vicariously through my posts and pictures, here is a little information about me. I am one who, for the most part, simply goes with the flow. Yes, I may plan a little bit when it comes to travel, but not extensively. It made my mom very happy to know that I would be with McKinley who knows exactly where we will eat lunch three days in advance.

For those of you who know me well, this won't come as a surprise to you. I knew we would be traveling to Prague, Czech Republic, but I didn't know the CR was considered Eastern Europe until the bus dropped us off at the station. Where had I gotten myself into? The Lonely Planet's Western Europe guide book stayed in the apartment for those three days. It's fine. Casual.

Despite my minimal (nonexistent) preparation for Eastern European culture, Prague quickly became a contender for my favorite city. Even considering the rain and gloom of a European January, the red roofs, bell tower, castle, and cheap food (I mean cheap; we made six meals for 8 euro!!) made me fall in love with this city whose culture and language was so different from anything I had ever experienced. It's still one of my favorite countries despite our final minutes in Prague.

~I don't deserve any, and I mean any, sympathy for the story that is to follow~

As college kids we try to be...frugal. In the context of this story, saying we were being "frugal" is being generous, but I'll let you choose your own words. Metros are different in Europe; you have to buy a ticket and then validate it with a time stamp. There aren't any gates between you and the metro, so if you're feeling extra gusty, you can walk right on.

McKinley and I bought a ticket the first day, and didn't validate them...fast forward three days. 

We are about to leave the metro, 100 meters from our bus which will whiz us off to Austria when we are stopped by the meanest, least sympathetic man I have ever met. He asked for our tickets (which we luckily still had) and then our passports when he saw our tickets weren't validated. "Follow me," he said through a clenched jaw. The seconds that followed passed like hours. 

He pointed to the English sign: Validate Your Ticket. Then he motioned to the fine print of the ticket. And it was at this point that I realized no amount of "playing dumb" or begging would help us. Without a single Korona in our pockets, we had to take 2000 out of the ATM to pay our fine. He then thanked us and pointed us in the right direction. The irony of his lack of sympathy juxtaposed with his kindness in showing us the way. 

The moral of the story, Europeans already hate Americans enough so go ahead and validate your metro ticket. You can bet that we validated our tickets the moment we set foot in Austria's metro...and explored an abandoned amusement park. 

And then there were two...

Some of the greatest stories come from some "not-so-great" situations. Traveling wouldn't be as memorable without these "uh oh" moments. To my mom: I'm telling these stories now because they are in the past. Everything is fine, and everything will be fine. Qué será, será. To everyone else: I'm sure you'll laugh and be less concerned than she. 

So friends, in the first ten days of "A Human Max In A Dog's World" I visited Paris, Brussels, and Amsterdam. All three were quite amazing in there own ways. Well...Brussels was actually less than amazing. (Minus the waffles and chocolate, I don't recommend visiting the country whose national symbol is a 24 inch statue of a boy taking a leak.) Amsterdam, on the other hand, is filled with many treasures. 

Amsterdam in 20 words or less: Anne Frank House, pancakes, canals, pancakes, Red Light District, TFIOS bench, and pancakes.

The bike culture of The Netherlands, the intricacies of the canals, and the beautiful colors of the city made it easy for me to choose Amsterdam as my favorite city. It was an (Amster)dam shame we cut a day off this stop in order to take a cheaper flight to Berlin. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is where my story begins. 

God Provides a Way: Part 1. We check out of our hostel and attempt to stand up straight as we carry our backpacks to Amsterdam's airport. Like the responsible children we are, we arrived with plenty of time...to then stand in a really long line to check in with a questionably named airline: EasyJet. It is there we find out our flight was booked for January 8th. It was the 7th! Even today we still aren't sure how this happened, because we purposefully booked the 7th since its flight was significantly cheaper. So we ended up shelling out money to book a last minute flight, but at least there were seats available. 

God Provides a Way: Part 2. Our hostel in Berlin had given us written directions from the airport to the hostel. But Mother Nature wasn't going to let it be that easy. The cold and snow caused the trains to change their stops. And without knowing German, you can imagine our surprise when the train stopped short of our destination. So we left the station, hoping to find help, and met this woman who told us (in broken English) to get back on the train...which then went in the wrong direction. And this is where God Provides a Way: Part 3 begins. 

By going in the wrong direction, we met an American student who knew exactly where we needed to go and even rode with us to our final stop. Without meeting the German woman, we wouldn't have taken that exact train in the wrong direction. And had we not taken that train in the wrong direction, we wouldn't have met the girl who saved me from bursting into tears. Needless to say, God was taking pity on us and has sent us not one, but TWO angels. I'm definitely not complaining. He brought us to some amazing history.

Stay tuned for more stories, because believe me, there are plenty more!

In the beginning...

"Traveling will leave you speechless and then turn you into a storyteller." After a very short 25 days filled with a lifetime supply of experiences, coffee, and gelato, these words could not be truer. For those of you who may have missed my constant (if not obsessive) updates on Facebook, I have been backpacking through western Europe with my girlfriend for the past month. This was a dream come true because backpacking Europe is something you always hear about, but I didn't imagine I would ever join the "elite adventurers." And to think all of this was dreamed up because I will be spending the next 4 months studying at the University of Granada in Spain!

In the off chance that you do not know me, let me introduce myself. My name is Max McGehee, and I am a junior at Western Kentucky University. I am majoring in Spanish and Public Relations while participating in the intensive Chinese Language Flagship Program (I recognize I am in over my head, but I'm stubborn.). But I am so much more than my education. I am an adventure seeking, culture loving, coffeeholic with a very supportive family, without whom my travels would not be possible. I have 3 younger sisters-Margo, Jocelyn, and Piper, whom I can honestly say are 3 of my best friends-and 2 amazing parents-Kerry and Michelle.

I won't bog these posts down with an incredible amount of detail, but I do appreciate those of you who have made it to this sentence. McKinley and I (eventually) flew out of Cincinnati on December 28th, but not before God sent us a temporary travel mom to coach us along. Our flights were delayed from the minute we said goodbye to our families and were officially "on our own." Because of this delay we were going to miss our connecting flight from JFK to Madrid and, consequently, our flight to Granada. Tracy-our God send-was traveling the same airlines as us all the way to Madrid. So we teamed up and got to work. Arranging new flights was chaotic, stressful, and exhausting. But Tracy made sure us kids arrived safely. The running and calling and changing and begging sure didn't feel like the glamour behind those 200 Instagram likes. But, nonetheless, we made it to Granada, bused our way to Malaga, and caught our flight to Paris, France!

I didn't understand the behind the scenes work that goes into traveling until we were in the Paris Metro, lugging our backpacks, with absolutely no idea how to get ourselves to the apartment.  We asked many people for help without any luck, but God continued to provide a way for us. We asked these two girls if they spoke English (they did not); but they did speak Spanish! I have never been so happy to hear Spanish than when those girls kindly helped us along the way. And let me tell you, there is no feeling quite like having the Eiffel Tower revealed to you after a lot of struggling. You'd think its impression on me would fade after seeing it everyday...

...It didn't.

We visited (brace yourself for a run on sentence and horrible puns) the Louvre Museum and smiled at the Mona Lisa, the Rodin Museum and pondered over The Thinker, triumphed the traffic circling the Arc de Triomphe, (I don't have a pun for this one) Notre Dame Cathedral, and toured laTour Eiffel-all 700+ steps to the viewing platform of the second tier! And to wrap it all up, we counted down the seconds to 2016 at the Eiffel Tower. 

This has been the first stop in a nutshell (kinda). If you made it this far, reward yourself with a cup of coffee. I know I would. And look for my next blog post after I get a solid 12 hours of sleep.