I have taken my column on the road this month and am writing from a second-story flat on Theobalds Road in Central London on a rainy morning because I’ve been having the time of my life.

A graduation celebration (not only for myself but also for two other recent sibling graduates) began some time ago in Rome, Italy, and wound through four other countries (Switzerland, Germany, France, and the UK) and will terminate soon with a plane ticket that includes both the words Heathrow and Denver in block lettering across the top.

Some highlights from the trip:

I have seen capitalism exhibited in all its varied forms providing exactly what we need at exactly the right time. Ponchos on a rainy wet morning at a remote German train station were not hard to find.

I have seen my mother cornered by a portly RATP French woman on a bus just south of the Arc de Triomphe demanding a sizable fine for a bus fare we thought we paid except for some inscrutably bad logic and systems of a French government established some time ago.

I have seen Paris through the eyes of two Irishmen and one Argentine woman (who spoke as softly as Beaker from the Muppets) but not yet a Frenchman.

I have seen my sister pick up an apparently venomous fish on a Normandy beach cleared of every kind of deadly man-made obstruction but apparently not the venomous fish kind as evidenced by how her right thumb became twice the size of her left.

I have seen two adults argue over whether one roll of toilet paper is enough for five people for three days and review real internet footage (yes that’s a thing) of cleaners cleaning an AirBNB for a “toilet paper audit” rather than just solve the problem.

I have seen a tourist (no relation) walk right past a sign written in red ink some time ago with the words “No visit! No photo!” while pulling out his phone’s video camera and needing to be chased down by a nun.

I have seen the Mona Lisa at a certain sizable distance comprising an uncountable horde of tourists (like myself) with phones extended high over their heads (also like myself) as Mona smiles back at us reminding each phototaker that the joke is on them.

I have spent an hour venturing around the Louvre trying to escape the Mona Lisa but was continually recaptured by the painting since every sign proclaims either “Sortie” (exit) or “Italian Paintings” leading directly back to Mona.

I have seen my sister order a fish in Venice and receive an actual fish in Venice, peering at it as the fish (entirely still intact) peered back at her, having to debone the fish caught quite recently, served in no way similar to how fish is served in Teller County.

I make all of these funny observations to provide a flavor of the trip and to remind myself, and you, that the best parts of a vacation (and life generally) are not the planned parts but the unplanned. And for as fun as traveling the wider part of continental Europe and England has been, nothing will feel quite as sweet as coming back to my home and a productive summer in the mountains.

Ruth Wiseman is a Woodland Park native and a recent graduate of Colorado Springs Early Colleges and Pikes Peak State College.