Amelia's travel blog

Greek Mornings & The Spirit of Xenia

In my junior year of high school, we read The Odyssey, and one of the themes we returned to again and again was xenia—the ancient Greek concept of hospitality and guest-friendship. Back then, it felt like something distant and mythological. But since arriving in Athens, I’ve felt it everywhere.

This morning, I woke up early before my friends and decided to explore the city a bit on my own. I wandered through quiet streets, following the sound of soft Greek music until it led me to a small neighborhood bakery.

Inside, the warmth wasn’t just from the ovens. A middle-aged woman greeted me with a smile and helped me pick out a breakfast: a freddo espresso and a slice of galaktoboureko (both of which were, obviously, divine). Before I left, she handed me a free cookie and told me to come back later for lamb.

It was such a small moment—but also kind of everything. That interaction, that generosity, felt like living proof of xenia.

Athens, You Have My Heart

Today my friends and I arrived in Athens, Greece—part one of our spring break adventure—and all I have to say is: wow.

Athens is effortlessly charming, and the people here might be the kindest I’ve ever met. As we wandered the streets this morning, locals greeted us with warm good mornings, coffee in hand, smiles on their faces.

Our taxi driver, on the way to the beach, doubled as a philosopher. Between turns down winding streets, he offered us life advice—my favorite gem being: “Don’t think.” Honestly? Not bad advice for spring break… though I’m not sure we’ll be following it exactly.

As always, the beach was the highlight of my day. There’s something about the sun warming my skin and the salt of the sea in the air—it feels like it heals something deep inside of me. My mind goes quiet. I feel still. I feel home.

Yesterday, in between classes, I decided that instead of heading home for a nap, I’d stay out and soak up the energy of Rome. So I found myself basking in the sunlight, tucked away in the little park just outside the Vittorio Emanuele II monument, catching up on my journal.

I’ve always thought this park was a hidden gem. It’s a peaceful pocket of green tucked between the chaos—a calm island surrounded by the rhythm of Roman traffic.

I wouldn’t call myself an artist in the traditional sense, but if there’s one craft I’ve truly mastered, it’s the art of wandering. And honestly, where better to roam than Rome? (Sorry, I had to.)

If you’re studying abroad—or planning to—it’s simple: walk. Walk everywhere. Ditch the itinerary once in a while and just go. Let your feet guide you. Follow whatever little side street catches your eye. Stop when your heart tells you to.

Whenever I have the chance, I go on long walks around Rome. It’s not just about getting my exercise in (although that’s a plus), it’s about finding peace in movement.

I think. I daydream. I make plans I may or may not follow. And along the way, I discover the most amazing things—hidden neighborhoods, tiny trattorias, vintage bookstores, and shops I would’ve never found on Google Maps.

Wandering without a destination reminds me that some of the best parts of life—and travel—are unplanned.

A Love Letter to the Borghese Gardens

Whenever the sun decides to shine in Rome—and especially when I have the time—I make the hour-long walk from my apartment to the Borghese Garden, one of my absolute favorite places in the city.

There’s something undeniably magical about it. I find myself daydreaming about the gardens during class, longing for those long, slow walks through its tree-lined paths. My favorite spot is the small pond with a fountain, tucked away like a secret. I bring a book (these past few weeks it’s been The Iliad) and camp out for hours, letting the sun warm my skin and the words pull me somewhere else entirely.

Sometimes I pretend I’m a young woman whose only job is to come to this park and read all day—and honestly, that sounds like the dream.

Couples stroll hand in hand. Children dart through the grass, laughing and chasing one another. Even the dogs seem to trot along in bliss, tails wagging in rhythm with the peaceful air. The Borghese Gardens are a splash of green in a city filled with ancient stone and ruins—a place where time feels slower.

Amsterdam: A Storybook City

Amsterdam is my second favorite city in the world—just behind Rome.

I went in the middle of March, and I swear not a day has gone by where I haven’t dreamed about going back.

The charming buildings along the canals, the bikes casually leaning against every wall, the golden light that makes everything feel like a movie scene… I’m obsessed. I’ve never wanted to live somewhere as badly as I do in Amsterdam.

It’s a storybook city, truly. And it feels like I landed in the middle of a page I never want to finish.

There’s always something to see, something to explore. I could wander for hours, no destination in mind, and feel completely content.

And maybe it was the cold wind biting my nose, but it reminded me of home in Minnesota in the most comforting way. Familiar. Unexpectedly warm. Soft.

Amsterdam made my heart feel physically heavy—in the best way. Like joy and belonging all tangled up together. It felt like home.

Morning Rituals, One Cup At A Time

There’s something sacred about starting the day with a cup of coffee. It’s a small ritual, but one I’ve come to cherish. Sometimes it’s a quiet, peaceful moment—just me, the morning light, and the warmth of the cup in my hands. Other times, I’m standing at a crowded bar in Rome or sitting in a busy square halfway across the world, surrounded by life and noise and movement. But no matter where I am, coffee gives me a sense of peace—a tiny pause before the day begins.

Lately, I’ve also found so much joy in watching how other people take their coffee. It’s such a small, personal thing—the way someone carefully stirs in sugar, adds just the right amount of milk, or drinks it black and strong. I love the moment their eyes light up after the first sip, how the sleepiness softens and slips away.

And there’s something deeply tender about ordering someone else a coffee. It seems like such a small act, but it says so much: I see you. I know what you like. I thought of you this morning. In a world that moves so quickly, that kind of attention feels rare. It’s a tiny, everyday way to offer care—to say, “I remember.”

Dreaming In Italian

As an avid reader, one of my favorite quiet joys in Rome is wandering through bookstores and flipping through novels written in Italian. I scan the pages, trying to pick out familiar words from my semester of language classes. Every time I recognize a phrase or piece together a sentence, my heart swells with this quiet, overwhelming joy.

The breakfast of champions

If there are two things I am passionate about in life, it’s coffee and pastries. One of my favorite things about living in Rome is how ever cobblestone street seems to lead to a bar or a pasticceria- each one more charming and delicious than the last.

This morning, I stopped by Giolitti and found myself surrounded by locals—standing at the bar, sipping espresso, and grabbing a quick cornetto before heading off to work. It felt like stepping into a daily Roman ritual, and I loved every second of it.

The photo on the right is from Tulipane—my favorite forno in all of Rome. Their pain au chocolat is to die for—flaky, buttery perfection that could easily rival anything I’ve had in Paris.

My Roman Empire

As my semester in Rome is nearing its end, I find myself often coming back to my favorite spot in Rome - the Roman Forum at night!

Rome has a way of making time feel finite and infinite at the same time. Instead of dreaming of going to Rome and seeing sights like the Colosseum or the Trevi Fountain in postcards and movies, they are now a part of my memories.

The Forum is even more beautiful at night. The flickering lights and the slightly haunting, but calm atmosphere. It's a kind of quiet that I have grown to love.

This is the first post of my travel blog, and while I am leaving Rome in a month, there will be more to come!