Castleton Spartan

Issue date: 4/25/07 Section: Campus Life

Roy Vestrich

If all goes as planned, in spring 2008 I will be traveling to London with a group of Castleton students for the semester. As I work on the program, I find myself thinking about how life-changing time abroad can be for young adults. I know that my first journey to Europe nearly 30 years ago profoundly shaped my outlook on life.

In the mid-to-late '70s, I was in my twenties, living in Cambridge, Mass. and working for an art gallery in Boston. Like many people at that age, I was biding my time between college and graduate school - or whatever it was that I was going to do in my "real" future. I worked a somewhat dead-end job, drifted in and out of relationships, and passed my nights at the local jazz bars with friends.

I lived cheaply in a fifth-floor walk-up apartment, and dedicated time to developing my skills as a writer and painter. The workers across the street in Cambridge City Hall Annex were consistently curious; they watched and gestured opinions as I covered large canvases in the tiny space that served as my kitchen, living room and studio. I was grateful that they could not comment on the notebooks I filled with poetry or the novel I began, but (thankfully) never finished.

In the fall of 1978, my uncle, a successful choreographer living and working in London, asked if I would like to help restore an old stone house he had recently purchased in Provence. Let's see, the noisy city workers across the street or a trip to London and room, board and a job in the south of France? That was not a hard decision to make.

I had already traveled a fair amount in the States: the solo rite-of-passage hitchhiking trip from coast to coast after my freshmen year of college, surfing excursions up and down the East Coast, in California and Puerto Rico, and one hot August exploring the Yucatan Peninsula (at a time when Cancun had one or two hotels and unspoiled beaches). But little in those experiences prepared me for the reality of truly living abroad - with no plan of returning to the States.

My first experience in London was hardly average for a young man with a backpack. My uncle's circle of friends included some of the most renowned artists and performers in Europe. Spending time with them was enough to set an aspiring young artist's head spinning. But even if I had not been traveling in such a circle, the pulse, history and sheer beauty of London would have seduced me on its own.

Continued...

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