If you were a '90s baby like me, there’s a good chance that you were also traumatized by the spooky tales of Stephen King. During my childhood, I spent the entire school week counting down the days to the movie nights I had with my dad on a regular basis. He was a horror fanatic and naturally, bestowed his love of horror onto me – his very peculiar, spooky 7-year-old. My weekends were filled with an abundance of horror films, with Stephen King often being in rotation.

We were driving aimlessly through the isolated roads in Maine trying to get to Camden, a picture perfect coastal town. My mom spotted boats off in the horizon and without much speculation, we changed our course.

I dreamed of going to Seattle for most of my adult life. I couldn’t really tell you why. Perhaps it’s because the PNW reminded me of the west coast version of New England. Maybe it was my love for Practical Magic or The Ring? Or perhaps it’s because, in my opinion, it’s one of the most beautiful areas in the country. Either way, my wish was about to come to fruition and I was getting there in style — the Coast Starlight.

Since being in grad school, on top of working full time — the thought of having free time is laughable. Most of my days are spent wishing I could have fun experiences, but when I do have a moment of freedom, I never end up doing anything.

It was 8 AM on the 10th of November. Shawn and I landed in Lisboa, Portugal a mere 8 hours earlier. We had nothing on the agenda except to make our way to our hostel close to the city centre. Our suitcases in hand, we rolled our way down the cobblestone streets to the nearest metro station.

Prior to arriving, I had hopes for a life changing experience. I didn’t foresee any prodigious, life altering events actually happening. I figured that at most the two of us would eat delicious food, see beautiful things, be humbled by the throes that often come with travel, and come back home with stories to tell. I was wrong.

All of that happened and then some.