Trying to relay Europe in a visual sense is challenging. To describe the ‘Europe’ feeling – one completely unique to the continent – is short of impossible.
Just the other day, I invited Hannah into the post-card restaurants. I offered her an Aperol Spritz and a waiter with a french accent. I even introduced her to one of the many people (boys) we’d met (and liked).
I was that old lady patting her cat and talking of younger days.
I sighed, “The sun was the lighthouse keeper, and we would walk down those lanes like the last boat in the harbour: with no need to be found. It would become about getting lost. That afternoon, the beam was so bright upon my shoulders that they blushed.”
I’m kidding. Perhaps if I thought before I spoke (*inserts quote about how life’s too short* *saves day*), it would have sounded more like Ghandi’s journey to heaven and less like a generic summer’s day.
“Damn, I wish you were there. It was so hot – like 50 degrees! We just roamed, you know. We had so much freedom, I just loved it.”
When I endeavoured to explain, I felt like I was speaking of a life far removed from my own. Experiences felt fabricated, too dream-like to have held dates in my calendar.
But somehow, it’s almost fortunate that we won’t reel out a perfect portrayal. To compensate, people will spend their lives experiencing the things they’ve heard of and read about.
They were totally targeting all lost teenagers searching for their souls, and assumed to find me in the bunch. They spotted “the girl with the smile” right in the middle laughing away afternoons, and looking out longingly at a rich blue sky. I was watching planes soar over stick figures. And in my dreams, I didn’t mind being cramped in a row of four seats, sharing the same air with 100 other people. Because I was on my way to much wider Indian deserts. And in doing so, I was shifting fluff to the tip of skyscrapers.
But here’s the thing. We don’t have to be. We can find ourselves – or at the least, contentment – on a camel-ride in the Saharan desert, strolling the alleyways of Rome. Now that school’s over, these moments are ours to make happen.
With credit to the new Webjet app, finding and booking flights is about to be anything but disheartening to the whole experience. Why, we’ll be reminded of the reason we’re going in the first place.
Undeniable is how incredibly sleek and clean this app is. If you, like most, strive to live out your minimalist Instagram – perhaps solely in spite of Essena O’Neill – then this one’s for you; I needn’t explain much further. But I will anyway, because the perks are plentiful.
Perhaps most importantly, treasure comes in it’s most cheapest (best to learn to love that word now) form with Webjet. Whether it’s back home from uni, or to Hawaii from home, the app is set to find us affordable flights to the best places. It’ll even remember our recent searches thus assuring we don’t forget we’ve been dying to visit Ghana since we were five.
Need a car? They’ll organise one for as soon as you land. Planning to make regular trips? You can save them in “My Trips”. Not sure when to arrive at the airport? Track the progress of your flight or your friend’s with Flight Tracker. Honestly, it seems there is nothing you can’t do with the app.
When Webjet contacted me, they said even if you hate it, we’re still happy for you to post the review. And not only do I admire this authentic approach, it’s entirely what I’m about. I’ll only promote something I believe in. And I’ll only brag about it when I’m entirely convinced. With an ease that allows us to enjoy the journey and the destination, I haven’t found a flaw in Webjet’s app just yet.
I believe in jumping on planes. I believe in seeing the world. And like Webjet, I don’t believe there should be barriers. Download the app that’s going to get you there on iTunes or Google Play.
Images taken by me, in Berlin, Germany.