I first read 100 Days in Europe when I was at a major crossroad in my life. I was intent on going to film school, yet as the months past I found myself in April no longer wanting to major in film. I had to quickly get a list of schools sorted, and figure out what I wanted to do with my life within a period of two months. On a Friday night in May, when my toes tingled and my head was wearied from the self-induced stress, I came across 100 Days in Europe by chance.

Chance -- the fantastical probability is exactly what 100 Days in Europe is all about. It’s an intoxicatingly endearing series of vignettes of Europe’s mystical. The tantalizing skies and ferocious peaks juxtaposed by the cooling lakes and soothing cityscapes: it’s all here.

There’s not much of a story to tell, because the simplicity heightens the visual weight in the narrative. The story tenderly grips the reader's hand and teeters them along, and before they know it there are no more pages to turn. The bright atmosphere of yellows and greens is halted for beige reality.

Hayden and Gia aren’t exactly the most riveting characters. There’s no quest or obstacle, but more of an impending doom of things going back to how they once were. Their dynamics, shortcomings, and development bleed into the background as to be the focal point of a pastel picture book. They’re the device to connect one page to the next, and enhance the atmosphere at hand by providing a continuous narrative.

The use of colors is immaculately placed and provides contrasts and highlights to accurately portray each and every backdrop. The usage is probably the most impressive part of Jihyo Kim’s art, as it consistently comes across as abstract yet oddly fitting. The blues and yellows of a Venice night sky, the oranges and greens of a Rome morning, and the turquoise and golds of a Barcelona afternoon; it all just fits.

There are cliche characterizations, unneeded love triangles, and overly repetitive thematic trappings. It’s not always the most nuanced, and the dialogue can be quite obvious. But I don’t exactly care. Don’t go into this expecting to get a European romance like Before Sunrise, with impeccable dialogue and thorough themes, but expect a wistful, luminescent journey of two people.

Most of all, 100 Days in Europe is a soothing acoustic of two characters dealing with their own problems; problems that are remedied by the companionship of the other, and the backdrops they find themselves in. I can’t recommend it enough.