This article is an opinion piece by a current student or alumnus/alumna of the College of Europe, featured in our monthly newsletter. The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions or positions of the College of Europe. Responsibility for the content lies solely with the author.
While you wait to pass the interview for the College, you are stressed. You believe your career trajectory can take an exponential turn by graduating from Bruges, the “social elevator”, as many call it. You get in. Professors and diplomats ask you technical questions about EU current affairs and past decisions. You are challenged in your opinions. You answer. You leave the room not knowing whether being put under pressure is a good sign.
A month of agony passes. And then, you get the offer. You are proud. You don’t know it yet, but you have just given yourself the greatest gift for all your past efforts. You spend the summer figuring out logistics. You join every possible WhatsApp group. You reach out to friends from previous promotions, asking them what to watch out for. You create your profile account and email. You are assigned a residence. It doesn’t seem fancy, but it will do.
Summer flies by, and suddenly it’s time to pack. You bring what you hold dear, knowing you’ll need it when the pressure hits. You go to the airport and say goodbye to your parents. They are full of pride. You cry. The most beautiful journey of your life begins exactly the way it will end with tears of joy from you and your family.
You arrive in Brussels and take the train. Your luggage is heavy. You take a seat and watch the grey buildings of Brussels bask in the late August sun. After 20 minutes, passing over canals and green fields, you reach Ghent. Next stop: Bruges. Out of the station, a summer breeze and the majestic towers of the churches and the Belfort await. You are excited, ready to discover every bit of this old fairytale harbour.
You reach your residence and meet a kind warden who leads you to your room. In the corridor, another person arrives. You greet each other and go to pick up your cards. The Aas, the champions of the College, brief you on the programme. The intro weeks go by quickly, and your social battery starts to run low. Self-proclaimed parties, BBQs, birthdays and spontaneous activities bring you closer to others.
It’s the 9th of September, and the whole promotion is finally in Bruges. The Rector welcomes you, followed by an intense presentation on the academic programme. You feel overwhelmed. Your classmates’ knowledge, skills, profiles and excellence intrigue you. They push you to do more, to become better.
Societies begin to form. Residences turn into “small neighbourhoods”, your first points of reference. You go out, drink beers, play football, party hard with the help of Guido until the BarCo arrives. Thursday nights gain a new meaning.
Winter unfolds through seminars and mandatory classes filled with passionate debate. You collaborate with people from every country in wider Europe, encountering different mindsets but sharing the same drive for a better world. The Inaugural Ceremony is around the corner. President Ursula von der Leyen delivers the biggest spoiler: “At the College, you do not only learn about Europe, but you also live it.”
Parties grow better. Music becomes a shared language. People form dynamic relationships. You begin to shine in what you do best. Visits to the European Parliament and the Commission, the Mayor’s welcoming drinks, late-night parties at Biskajer’s cave, and Italian Disco Nights give you a glimpse of what European identity means.
Exams approach. The Tree Heist begins. Taking care of each other in the library and sharing lunch and dinner becomes sacred. Corridor noise at night means “operations” are underway. Exams end, and Bruges celebrates Christmas in the most magical way. You sip a Brugse Zot before catching the first plane home. Semester one is done.
You return to a series of hyper-realistic simulations. You compete, collaborate, read more and sharpen your analytical skills. After simulations, study trips begin. You embark on a journey: Strasbourg, Luxembourg, or Frankfurt, as part of Europe’s bright future. You drink good wine, discuss politics with MEPs, sing a cappella at departmental dinners, and laugh at the misadventures along the way.
Back in Bruges, national weeks bloom like spring. But the thesis looms. March arrives. The sun is out. Friendships have solidified. Aperitivos and garden BBQs become rituals. Events are in full swing. A message about the closing ceremony lands in your inbox. You realise the end is near, but you keep going. Between paper deadlines, presentations and job applications, you try to stay afloat.
You go to bed each night staring at the ceiling, grateful for the life you’re living, despite the challenges. You learn to dance from paso sevillano to Greek syrtaki. You eat amazing food. The elegance and charm of the Viennese Ball brings Bruges and your promotion into full blossom. Dancing the Blue Danube in pairs, wearing long dresses and tuxedos, with a live saxophone, is an image of Europe that will stay with you forever.
You begin to understand your mission: to keep the passion for a united Europe alive — in a time when everything is questioned. Suddenly, it’s Easter. Some visit Natolin. Others go to Tirana. The College gets quieter. You begin writing your thesis. Long hours in the library. Frustration over interviews and data. Your learning curve steepens, your stamina fades.
May arrives. Classes are over. You enter the final stretch. You submit your thesis, a stressful yet rewarding milestone. You visit the Bavarian Representation. You sense it’s nearly over. The final exams drag on. The only thing keeping you going is the finish line. The day before your last exam, you try to hold it together. It’s not easy. This has been the most intense experience of your life.
Then the “shipyard” tradition begins. The legendary Boat Race on Bruges’ canals comes to life. After a spectacular Coachella event, everyone looks forward to it. The final BarCo night, the last chapter of a Thursday ritual takes place. The last party begins with champagne tasting, followed by an epic BBQ organised by the most efficient societies.
You head to the Belgian coast, Blankenberge. A cruise ship lies docked, glowing in the sunset. The night passes too quickly. You want to dance, laugh, hug and relive every song that made this year unforgettable. At sunrise, you dive into the sea. As you look back, the cruise ship has set sail.
You return to Bruges. On your walk from the station, you truly notice the city for the first time. It feels like waking up from a dream. Your parents arrive. It’s their last visit. You show them around. You begin emptying your room.
The next morning, you put on your best clothes. You’re ready to greet the King of Spain at the Closing Ceremony. Your student representatives showcase a year of hard work. Songs and speeches fill the hall. The choir sings ABBA’s Slipping Through My Fingers. You feel the College’s air slowly slipping away, but not yet.
After the pride of hearing Beethoven’s 9th, you take a deep breath. You hug your friends. You walk to the last reception. You kiss each other, knowing it’s over. That night, the last afterparty at Biskajer. Toto’s Africa plays. You understand: some people you’ll never see again. Some will marry. Some, you’ll stand beside at their weddings All because you met in Bruges.
You start signing yearbooks. Through those words, you realise the magic of the College lies not only in the fairytale town, the strength of the network, or the hands-on learning. It lies in what you are willing to do for each other out of love, respect, and pride in being part of this family. Every kid who came from a city in a Member State is now someone who understands feminism, German or Spanish politics, and has friends across the continent. That kid is ready to fight for a united Europe, because this is now their home.
You pack your things. You exit the room. The walls are bare. The corridors are loud. The goodbyes have been said. You walk to the station. Bruges seems to rest, awaiting the next promotion. The same breeze that greeted you ten months ago at the platform now bids you farewell. Your family sees you cry again. But this time, it’s for the family you built here.
Like that cruise ship in Blankenberge, this family may leave port, sail around the world but it will never sink. It carries your moments, your heart, your growth and your spirit with it.
The spirit of the College of Europe.
Alexandros Marios CONSTANTES
Alexandros Marios Konstantes holds an MA in European Public Policy Analysis from the College of Europe in Bruges, supported by the European Commission’s Neighbourhood Policy Scholarship. He began his career with an internship at the U.S. Embassy in Athens and later worked as a Parliamentary Assistant in the Hellenic Parliament. In 2024, he served as a Petty Officer in the Hellenic Navy, focusing on administration and command.
His policy interests include EU energy—particularly hydrogen—low-carbon transport, and infrastructure in the EU neighbourhood. In the past, he contributed to publications on EU–U.S.–Turkey relations at the University of Piraeus and participated in academic workshops with Ben-Gurion University of the Negev.
He is fluent in Greek, English, and French, and recently founded The Ampersand, a blog on international entrepreneurial public policies and stakeholder engagement.
