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Up until that moment I had all the confidence in the world. I had been dreaming of backpacking across Europe for years. Now it was finally happening. An hour earlier the plane had touched down in Amsterdam and I had made it onto the train heading downtown. The full gravity of the situation hit me on that train when I heard the teen girls in front of me speak a language I didn’t recognize. Suddenly it was all I could do not to break down in tears. What had I gotten myself into? The plan had been simple enough, fly across the Atlantic at the end of May, visit a handful of countries alone, be back home by August. I mapped out a general path in the months leading up to my departure, but was careful not to over plan. The way I saw it, a real adventure would only happen if it was a surprise. Not once did I see a single problem with my plan until I was sitting on the train. I was alone with an ocean between everyone and everything I had ever known. To make matters worse I didn’t know a word of the local language. As soon as reality settled in, my stomach tied itself into a million knots. But even as my heart tried to pound through my chest I knew there was no turning back. The only option was forward into the journey of a lifetime. From Amsterdam I went to Paris and a week later headed south. Three trains, and a full day of travel later, I arrived in Annecy. I was there because I once saw an amazing picture of the town online. In the picture there is a gorgeous medieval stone building. A canal runs straight up to the front of the structure then splits and curves around each side. On the opposing sides of the canals are tall buildings painted exclusively in shades of neon. The ground floor of each building was a French cafe that spilled out into the street. I was drawn to Annecy the instant I saw the picture. The moment I got off the train I began making my way toward the exact spot the photo had been taken. I was going to see the image that brought me to Annecy with my own eyes. Soon I was walking down a cobblestone street with a canal to my right and a line of antique pastel buildings to my left. The smell of coffee floated from cafes and hung in the hot summer air. In no time I was standing on a small bridge over the canal. All the angles seemed to agree I was standing exactly where the photographer had stood. In the middle of this beautiful scene sat the medieval building, completely encased in scaffolding. Seeing the scaffolding brought me right back to the train ride in Amsterdam. The fear had come rushing back and again I wondered what I had gotten myself into. I had invested time and energy getting to Annecy for nothing. Since there was no more I could do on the bridge I decided to follow the canal back to it’s origin. What I found was beyond anything I had imagined. Annecy is on the far western side of the Alps. The crystal clear lake sits in a valley surrounded by a seemingly infinite ring of mountains. This unexpected scene forced me to stand on the shore and stared dumbfounded across a shimmering blue lake at snow covered peaks. My mood changed instantly. After a short walk through the beautiful parks around the lake I knew it would always be one of my favorite places on earth. I have never made a better decision solely based on one image from the internet. It turned out I had been correct from the very beginning. The most genuine adventure had come as a complete surprise. Annecy was not the adventure I was hoping to find. In the end it was infinitely more fulfilling. I proved to myself that even when my plans feel like terrible mistakes, there is always the potential for something awesome further along the canal.