that was lovely . . .

but don't worry so much. I mean you have to consider money when making out budgets and paying bills. Things will go wrong though so you change your plans and move on, like you did. Worrying about whether you are dragging down your husband or how much better his life would be without you or your kids will not help matters in the least, but can turn into kind of a self-fulfillig prophecy. There really is no point in dwelling on what kind of life he had before you either. He loves you very much, obviously, so enjoy it for heavens sake.

I am always in money trouble, haven't dated since my divorce (no one's knocking down my door but I haven't made any effort either), and never travel outside the country, have a boring job, so I really enjoyed your article. Maybe because I have so little to lose (no car, no house, just kids, pets and an apartment and public transportation) I worry very little. Could things possibly get worse? If so it's time to give up, no point in worrying.

I took 15 people to the Louvre in August. The water bottles alone were $80. Then tickets, food, bus and train fare back to the burbs. I still don't understand why the French love to eat overpriced duck where you get it from the Grande Marche with the head still on.

Anyway you need to wear loose cotton, have a bottle of wine handy and not care.

Your piece was deeply personal and moving. Thanks.

My husband and I are leaving for a 3 week tour of Europe in a few days, a first for both of us. I'm excited, but at the same time scared to death that I'll spend so much time worrying about not missing the train, finding the hotel, staying on our budget, and a million other things that I'll forget to enjoy what an amazing experience this will be. Thank you for reminding me to relax and have fun and everything will work itself out!

Rule 1. Nothing ever works out like you think.

Rule 2. If you remember Rule 1, you'll have a better time than you ever expected.

I'm an American who has lived in Europe for almost 20 years, purely due to my husband's work. We have travelled extensively with our two daughters since their infancies and have had our share of disasters - food poisoning in Crete and Barcelona, torrential rain in Tuscany and Cyprus; I could go on and on. Unlike my provincial childhood, where I barely escaped the borders of Ohio and never had a real summer vacation, these girls have seen the world, and my 15 year old recently said with a world-weary sigh, 'I really do not need to see Italy again; enough already', along with 'Australia this summer is going to be torture.' I pray that my kids do not end up like that drunken blowhard at your party who assumes that everyone has the luxury and time to fill their passport with stamps. I always try to remind them how lucky they are to live such an unusual existance, and to never lord their travels over others. The truth is that I hope their happiest memories will revolve around our life at home, at the dinner table, and not some exotic locale. Ann, your children are so fortunate to have a mother who gives a damn about her family. The world will always be there for you to explore, but kids won't be living with us forever.

After having lived the last eight months in Vienna, mixing up both being a tourist and working here, it's pretty clear to me that Europe is a lifestyle. And the main components of that lifestyle are locomoting (via train, bike, or foot) and drinking -- not wandering around looking at old buildings.

It's a wonderful life, to be sure. You can sprinkle a couple of art galleries, a couple of castles, and the odd park or statue in the middle. But as far as being a tourist with only a week of time, Disney's got the market defined, and quite frankly, you can't escape. Anyone with grander expectations should not be making a two-week trip.

Consider this-- in Vienna, 45% of the income in the town comes from tourism. That's a lot-- how would you expect anyone to act when they have to share all their most beautiful places with a bunch of noisy, unsophisticated strangers taking constant pictures with their cell phones? But if you're Viennese, making at least part of your living from it, you tolerate it. It just doesn't mean that they have to love it.

We've been the ones that have screwed it up-- those of us looking for a quick fix of someplace different, delivered by discount airline tickets for short stays that tax the pocketbook. It used to be that the travel to get to the destination took days, or weeks, and then that was followed by staying in a place for months, or sometimes years. Yes, I understand how impossible this is for people. But it reflects more about us, and how we've managed our own culture, that we can't get away from work for anything more than a week than the fault of the hosts.

If you want to experience Europe, here are some tips. First, pick one place to go. Second, learn a little more than the basics of 'please' and 'thank you' in the language. This is relatively easily done with language tapes that can be played in the car during the long commutes. It opens doors that simply can't be imagined if you can describe the place that you live. The statement 'Where are you from' is something that every person around the world has in common. Third, rent an apartment and stay at least six weeks. Apartments throughout Europe are relatively cheap, you can cook at home, and save a ton of money, and then not sweat the fact that a basic meal in Europe costs as much as a deluxe meal in the States.

When you arrive at your destination, do a couple of things. Spend a day really getting to know the public transportation system by riding a bus around town. I've never been in a European city that hasn't had an all-day pass. Alternately, rent/buy/bring a bike (I'd actually recommend buying a good folding bicycle and bringing it with you.) European cities are bike-friendly in a way that will blow your mind. Even playing matador with the taxis in Granada will be way safer than riding along a road in the American countryside-- because these people love bikes, and respect them and their riders.

That first week, get to know some people. The easiest way to do this is to find a couple of cheap restaurants, and strike up some basic conversations with the owners/waitstaff. Not all will be receptive-- but if you've picked someplace in the not-so-busy part of a tourist district, and you're there filling their coffers in THEIR off-hours, they'll talk to you. When you come back once, they'll remember you and smile. When you come back twice, they'll remember your order from the last time. I practice a couple of stories that make fun of myself that I tell as icebreakers that make them feel good about their country. It works like a champ. Before I know it, I'm getting discounts on menu items, and people are chatting up my kids.

Lastly, do something that the local people do, and in the process, be nice to their old people. When we were in Granada, we went to a bullfight. Personally, I had originally found the idea of bullfighting to be kind of reprehensible. But my 10 and 7 year old wanted to go-- they kept on making (no kidding) the argument that it was important as part of the culture. So we went. The seats in a bullfighting arena are at best bleachers, and usually concrete steps. And the old lady in front of me was being exceptionally rude to start, taking more than her fair share of room. Naturally, we did not know anyone there. But we were quiet, followed the rituals through the first bull, applauded when we were supposed to. Next thing I knew, two cans of Coke were being thrust in my kids' hands by someone from above (people basically bring whole picnics to bullfights, I found out.) After that, a glass of port followed to me. Sandwiches were being passed around, and the old ladies were talking to the boys, giving them sweets. I followed with one of my standard stories, about how I chose only to come to Andalucia-- not all of Spain-- because I had heard of the friendliness of the people and the beauty of the countryside (partially true) and before I knew it, I was half-drunk waving my white handkerchief at the matador.

As long as one treats Europe like a series of experiences to be checked off (it's Tuesday, and we're supposed to be eating salami and cheese and feeling romantic, Wednesday is the Mona Lisa, etc.) Europe can't really be anything other than Disneyland. Real experiences can't be bought, and it doesn't matter how much money you have, either. It's only when you slow down, and let the possibilities present themselves that you really can have a vacation, and a real experience. Isn't that true for most of life?