Do you hear that?

"Guys, wait. Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"...Exactly."

I'm not a city girl. Some of you may know this about me. Sure, it's fun and exciting to be in a new place with big buildings and loud noises and famous people. But nothing makes me feel more out-of-place than a flat landscape covered in concrete.

It seems like my entire experience in Europe has been one of constant movement. I've been subject to relentless sensory overload. One thing right after another: gotta go to work, then see this monument, that museum, those shops, this park...I can't waste any time. So much to see, so much to do...so much noise. I haven't stopped.

But when Jessi, Jessica, and I stepped off the train in Dover early on Saturday morning, I stopped.

And I listened.

I couldn't hear sirens. I couldn't hear car horns. I couldn't hear people shouting obscenities back and forth. People weren't bumping into me on the sidewalk. I didn't smell cigarette smoke, diesel fuel, or the warm, stuffy, stagnant air of the tube. The wind I felt was not from busses whizzing past me on the busy streets. It was coming from the English Channel. It was fresh. Clean. Cool. I felt alive again.

I spent most of my afternoon out on the famous White Cliffs. I almost cried for joy when I found a trail made of dirt and rocks and grass...and no concrete. As for the cliffs...I don't know that I have words to describe them. The landscape is gorgeous. It. Was. Incredible.

This was just the type of sanity break I needed. I was reluctant to get back on the train that night. 

Now week six has begun. Back to the drone of city life. Back to the daily routine. Back to the commotion. But I feel like I can handle it now. This weekend gave me an energy boost. Bring on the noise. I can take it.