My First Serious Adventure

So, my first serious travel adventure was really when I was six years old. I went with my mom to Austria to visit friends for the summer. I remember picking strawberries on the Austrian hillsides, watching strange men milk huge, angry cows. I remember picking on other six-year-olds as we ran mostly naked through the streets during the heat waves (apparently that's what you do when it's hot). I also remember despising the bread they fed me - rye. Terrible bread. I still hate that bread today. One thing I don't remember is taking pictures. That's probably because six-year-olds don't take pictures yet. Oh well. I suppose this first adventure is left up to my memories and your imagination.