Happy 2009!

Thanks to everyone who voted in my poll about where I should go in South America as it’ll be my last opportunity to spend a few weeks in a foreign country for a long time!

Brazil edged out Peru with 40% of the votes, and while I had my heart set on the beaches of Rio too, I couldn’t ignore the higher cost of airfare from Europe, the higher cost of living there, and the massive size of the place.

Instead, I booked a flight with Iberia from Madrid to Bogota!

Yes, Colombia is the dark horse garnering only 3% of the votes, but perhaps that is all the more reason for me to go explore the country most people are still too afraid to consider.  The truth is I want to visit a country yet to hit the global tourism scene.

And to recap a few other trouble spots from 2008:  I had my pocket picked in Bali, was about to visit Tibet when riots broke out in China, trekked in Nepal when Maoists won free elections, was present in India during bombings, enjoyed Thailand as government protests gained energy, and was almost robbed in Cape Town.

But first, I have to catch you up on a whirlwind tour of Egypt and my attempt to couchsurf through pricey Europe.

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Monday, August 31, 1998

Bill and I got up and out at 7 AM, got to the T9 terminal at 8 AM. We found out our tickets were worthless by 9 AM. I went off to book a seat on the United Airlines flight at 10 AM. Searched and found a clean toilet (w/seat) at 11 AM. Met up with Bill (by chance) at a money machine at 12 PM. We sat at Burger King and read newspapers until 2 PM. My flight leaves at 4:50 PM, and arrives at 7:10 PM. Apparently, without the price quote from yesterday, the ticket would have cost $900. But the lady working there was very nice, and gave me the lower price. It took about 15 minutes, but I was patient and content to have a set flight schedule. The time has been going by quick today, considering I’ve been at the airport for six hours already, and just two and a half more until I’m on the plane. Then, I’ll be happy. And I’m just waiting to call home and ask to be picked up!

I checked through everything at 2 PM, and made my way to the boarding gate. Though the first x-ray guy checked all my film (like the guy did in Virginia and Boston), the second (sad and bored looking) guy did not. He made me put 11 roles of film through the x-ray. This nulls my efforts at the other airports. I’m still pissed off about it. And if my film is noticeably damaged, I’ll be irate. Of course, I won’t be able to do anything about it. Though the airport seemed daunting at first, I’ve had no problems getting through the system today. I’m waiting to board the plane at 4 PM. Only then will I be truly content. Before going to England, I was noticing some weight loss. But, after a diet of fast food and beer, I’m sure I’ve gained weight. Luckily, I have a routine at home.

My savings account has dwindled dangerously low. I’m hoping to pick up a little money with Manpower before the holidays. And that will go towards my credit cards. There is so much I look forward to at home: Howard Stern show on Saturday nights, football, baseball and the New York Yankees, TV, news of the declining global economy, my room, a private bathroom, skateboarding, computer games (esp. Dune 2000). I’ve decided to wait till home to write up my list of good and bad travel tips. Hopefully, this will help me on my next trip, and anyone else. I really smell right now. The person sitting next to me on the plane will surely notice my odor. I threw out my only two pairs of Italian underwear. Going commando isn’t that bad when you don’t move around a lot. I guess I should mention again that I’m a bit nervous about customs. Worst case scenario is they search my bag and pull out the magazine. I really stink! And I’m sure it will be worse after a 9 hour plane trip.

I got on the plane, a Boeing 777, which I believe is one of the newest models. It’s not a jumbo jet though. I got a window seat. The plane is definitely not full. There are in-seat video screens (5″) so everyone gets a personal view of the movies. It turns out that I even get a choice of the movies I want to watch. I chose to watch the first half of “Titanic.” I also flipped around, caught a bit of “As Good As It Gets.” I’m hoping for “Good Will Hunting” later. There is also a map screen which displays our current position, speed, height, and ETA. The service has been great. All drinks are free, but I’m not going to bother drinking. I filled out the US Customs form. I declared my sweater, 2 tapes, 5 CDs, and the 2 Guinness glasses. Hopefully, I won’t have a problem. Since I don’t have any checked luggage, I should get through quickly!

For dinner (lunch by EST), I got chicken and potatoes. It was very good, and the service has been awesome. There has been a little turbulence so far, but mostly it has been smooth. I have to shit, but I don’t want to deal with getting up, etc. We are approaching the southern tip of Greenland at the halfway point. I’m definitely leaving this flight with a great impression of United Airlines. The damn video screens are great! The best part is that technology is only advancing, more personal options are in the future for air travelers (and space, but not in my lifetime, I don’t think). Well, I’m ready to start the second part of “Titanic.”

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Read more of my exciting adventures Backpacking in Europe, or view my photos on Flickr.

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Sunday, August 30, 1998

I woke up ready to go. Unfortunately, I drank some coffee and hot chocolate. Instantly, I felt bowel problems. And since I haven’t learned to go to the bathroom at the right times yet (like when I’m on a train, and I wait till the station, even though I know I’ll have to pay to use the toilet there). The point is that I couldn’t find a decent, clean toilet at the train station or airport. So I decided to wait for the airplane bathroom. Keeping this in mind, I noticed that my flight number wasn’t listed in the place it should be. To make a long story short, I missed my flight because I hadn’t called the airline number to confirm the flight time. The flight had been moved from 3 PM to 10:15 AM. Even worse, it had been delayed at the airport until 1:30 PM, but I couldn’t get on because of security reasons.

I eventually met up with Bill there. I also found six other people that had missed the flight. By this time, I was tired, angry, and mad that everyone was smoking in the (charter) terminal. I gathered unsure information. Bill and I then went to the main terminal. Apparently we had been in T9 the whole time, a terminal for charter flights only. This explained a lot. The best price quote I could get was $600 for a round trip ticket to Washington, DC for tomorrow afternoon on a United Airlines flight. I figured part of the cost would be offset since I wouldn’t have to travel from Boston to DC. I knew I was going to have to buy a ticket, but decided to go see if there were any new developments in the morning. We left, unable to find a TransAir office, or any definitive information.

We went back to the Woodstock hostel for the night. Many of the same people were still there. It turned out to be a good night. I got Thai food for the first time. Chicken with peppers, pineapple, and rice. I actually ate some of the red bell peppers, after being convinced that they weren’t hot. Bill was out of money. He had traveled to Switzerland, Belgium, and England. He also met a lot of girls. After exchanging experiences, I realized how alone I had been for the second part of my trip. Anyway, I drank some beer and talked with many fine people, including two German guys who were entertaining. It started off when I noticed one of them playing with his fish skeletons (Thai food).

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Read more of my exciting adventures Backpacking in Europe, or view my photos on Flickr.

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Saturday, August 29, 1998

Leaving Canterbury for Dover, England

I woke up this morning after some really cool dreams. One involved me and several beautiful women; another was about how the two Japanese students won a major international award. Sometimes dreams feel so real while they are happening (which in reality might only be a few seconds). Often, I’ll wake up with a quick lapse of not knowing whether or not it was reality or a dream. The night before I visited the Cliffs of Moher, I had a dream that people were jumping off them (the cliffs). I wanted to join them, but couldn’t (too scared). The next day when I went, I saw people walking along the out-of-bounds area, and I overcame my fear of heights, and joined them. Coincidence? Parallels? Psychic dream?

Anyway, I was awoken around 8:30 AM to a full English breakfast cooked by (Karen?) Connolly, the B+B keeper. Sausage, egg, toast, beans, and coffee. It was great! Served in her dining room. She was really nice, and kind of motherly. It seemed like we (her travelers) were surrogate children. It was a nice experience staying there. I’m currently waiting two and a half hours for the hovercraft. I just got an awful tasting cappuccino at the terminal. I can’t seem to get a connection (phone) with any of the Paris hostels, so I’ll have to call in Calais, France. I’m a little worried that I’m going to have to pay a lot for a room. If that is the case, I might just spend the night at the airport.

It looks like I’ll actually be on budget for the first time in two weeks. My most expensive week turned out to be the one full week in Ireland. Second most expensive was the week (and travel) in London. So I was on budget for five of the seven weeks. It also turns out that I will have two full days of travel left on my Eurorail pass. Since I bought that erasable pen, stretching it has been a lot easier. Especially in Ireland, where they don’t even punch the ticket. Unfortunately, the train services are not as widespread as in the rest of Europe.

Riding back through Dover, I got a better look at the white cliffs. Perhaps if there weren’t a city below, they’d be more impressive. Apparently the channel is more traveled on weekends (which makes sense). Still, I’ll be waiting, just as I am now, in Paris to go home.

Returning to Paris, France

I got to Paris after a three and a half hour train ride. I reserved a bed at the Woodstock hostel. The train ride went slowly after a family of six, with four kids, entered my compartment. The kids were just a little too loud for me. It took about ten minutes to get to the hostel via metro, which will be great to use in the morning . When I got there, the Beastie Boys “Hello Nasty” was playing (and right after I had just listened to the whole thing on the train). I emptied my bowels, and washed my face. After I had seen the beer in the common room, I was anxious to drink myself to sleep. I also wanted to see how the draft tolerance I had built up in the United Kingdom would compare against eleven ounce bottled beer.

I’m drinking my first Heineken since Amsterdam (I think), and it isn’t as good as I thought. Therefore, I’m changing my official beer to Kilkenny because it was such a nice surprise. It is nice to be back in a hostel filled with young people. Ireland’s were nice, but they were more family oriented, with a mostly (all?) no alcohol policy. While I set up to drink myself to bed, I plan on writing in this damn journal. All my thoughts in stream of consciousness form will be put down, regarding my trip. Are you ready?

I’m too busy drinking right now to write. I can say that the 25 cl (like 8 oz.) of beer in the Carlsberg and 1664 bottles really sucks! I had plenty of Francs to spend. There is a black cat here. I petted him for a bit, but when I touched him while he was licking himself, he bit, and then hissed at me! This hostel makes me not want to leave Europe. Both this hostel and the Aloha have gas tank frames in their common room, coincidence? I’m so glad the two people working here are drinking right now!

Since I’m already buzzed, I’m likely to talk about anything (so Dave Lee, in 20 years, I hope you and your wife and maybe your eldest child are entertained by this). One of the guys working here is turning 24 on this Saturday night. This explains why his favorite band, Soul Coughing, is playing and why he is drinking (and why the same song, “The Bug” is on repeat). There is 1/2 a Volkswagen Bug on the wall, with a couple of black lights in the windows. I just found out that they serve whiskey at another hostel in town, the 3 Ducks.

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Read more of my exciting adventures Backpacking in Europe, or view my photos on Flickr.

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Sunday, August 9, 1998

I woke up this morning with a need to get myself out of Paris. Unfortunately, my best option was the budget travel offices which were conveniently closed on Sundays. This means I’ll have to stay another night. Then, I’m hoping to take the train to Calais, France and the ferry to Dover, England. Those white Cliffs of Dover better be great! Right before I woke up this morning, I dreamed I was pissing. I woke up to find I had relieved myself in bed. I had wet my underwear, sleep sack, and even the mattress a little. Thank God I wasn’t wearing my shorts, they smell bad enough as it is.

I went to the Louvre today. I felt like a real insider when I entered through the metro entrance. It was only about a ten minute air-conditioned wait. Once inside, I was overwhelmed with the size of the museum. I decided to only see the paintings. By the end, there were only fifteen to twenty paintings that I thought were worth the trip. They were by Delacroix, Gericault, Raphael, Leonardo da Vinci, Vermeer, and a few others. The “Mona Lisa” was encased in a bullet proof glass case. I decided to move in for a closer look, and was appalled at the people. They were just taking pictures, and videos, without even spending a second to look at the painting. I can’t even imagine how poorly the pictures would come out anyway (with the reflection of the glass and flashes). Ironically, right outside that room were four more da Vinci’s being paid practically no attention (and there are only 17 in the world). Overall, I enjoyed the Uffizzi and the Museo d’Orsay more.

Sam and Dave should be flying home right now. Apparently all the Parisians are on vacation right now. The beggars here all seem to be women in robes with babies. It seems awful for the children. They are being used so badly. I went to Notre Dame around 3 PM, but services were still going on so I couldn’t really walk around, plus it was really crowded. The whole front facade was under scaffolding too. I climbed the stairs of the Eiffel Tower only to find out the elevator to the summit was having technical difficulties. I watched the Parisian sunset from the second level. Now I’m down on the grass (park), writing. I kind of wish I had met someone for a picnic. The view of the Tower is picture perfect right now. I wish I didn’t have to stay another night. Oh well, I’m going to leave Tuesday, no matter what.

Monday, August 10, 1998

Today I made it downstairs for breakfast at about 9 AM. I was really only interested in the hot chocolate, but they had some type of cornbread that was really good too. After drinking two cups of hot chocolate, I started to feel the weird after effect. I’ll probably just have one tomorrow. So I set out to try and find a budget travel office to buy a hovercraft ticket from. I spent 1 1/2 hours walking all over. Then, I went to a pay phone and bought the ticket over the phone (which I could have done from the hostel). So I’m definitely learning my lessons the hard way.

Now I’m on a train to Chartres. Only a few windows are open, and I’m not near them. It is bloody hot! And, I’m really starting to stink between the heat and my dirty clothes. Chartres Cathedral was so dark and cool, it felt air-conditioned. The only source of light was the numerous stained glass windows. I took the tour with Malcolm Miller (scholar, author). I probably could have tagged around without paying, but I’m too honest. Today is supposed to be the hottest day in the past hundred years for this region of France, 106 degrees Fahrenheit. I know its hot (but I can’t tell if it is to that degree). I got my hovercraft ticket, but the pressure is on to find out when a train leaves for Calais (the departure point).

I got the ticket to Calais quite easily, then I was feeling happy. I went to the McDonald’s across the street and got my McRoyal with cheese. I felt like a jolly American again. I also felt like I was in a “Pulp Fiction” dialog. Either way, I didn’t feel witty. I went down to the bathroom, and realized (at the urinal) that I was standing in a pool of piss. I moved my business to the toilet, and got out of there. Back to the hostel. My new roommates were all American girls except for one French guy. The Texan girl mentioned her boyfriend before I even realized I liked her. Well, I enjoyed talking to her. Four beers later, I was asleep.

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Read more of my exciting adventures Backpacking in Europe, or view my photos on Flickr.

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Since reading The Lost Girls’ post on their trials and tribulations in northern Vietnam (especially the part about the cab ride from hell), I started to reflect on my own experiences, and the few times I felt threatened abroad (at least that I can remember). The experience that stands out the most in my mind was during my 2-day stay on the French Riviera…

Nice, France, August 1998

The French Riviera sounded rich and exotic, so I made it a must-see on my European tour. Rock, rather than sand beaches aside, it was a pretty city, and I was halfway through my trip and feeling as though I had the swing of independent travel. Early on my first full day, I came across a plaza as I was exploring. It was rather large, and seemingly popular and well trafficked by locals and tourists. I remember it because I saw a bunch of skateboarders working some ledges. I sat down on a bench on the edge of the park to observe, trying to figure out how good they were. I was a skater myself at the time so I enjoyed secretly rating the skills of others. I got the impression they were a group of friends.

Later that evening, I decided to walk along the plaza side of the street on my way to dinner. I was carrying my standard 1.5 liter of bottled water, though it was only half full. As I walked past the plaza, one of the older locals among the group I saw earlier motioned to me to give him my water. I immediately got the feeling the guy was on an arrogant power trip, perhaps showing off to the others. At the least I found it intrusive - certainly not something I’d ever encountered in the States, New York City, or Washington, DC. I could’ve said “no” for a variety of reasons running through my head, including the fact that it was gross to think I would then drink from the same bottle afterwords, or some random dude is cheating me of the water I paid for and fully intended on drinking that night (thus forcing me to buy more while I was on a tight budget). I was in no position to say “no” though, being vastly outnumbered by a group (I’m willing to say gang even) of kids hanging out all day in a public park in the Summer heat. If you’ve seen the movie Kids, then you know the thoughts running through my head about getting beat-up for no particular reason other than you’ve insulted a kid trying to prove himself. So I gave him my water. I then turned to find someone offering me drugs (which I declined). I turned back and saw some woman gulping my water. After she sucked it down, they returned the near-empty bottle to me.

I remember walking away pissed, and feeling belittled. I knew it was the right thing to do, I just didn’t like the way it made me feel. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. You give the person your water because you don’t know if they’re drunk, on drugs, or looking for an excuse to fight.

The traveler is always at a disadvantage, whether it be knowledge of the locale, language, or local customs and culture. Learning to let go of one’s pride is not an easy task. Buddhists subscribe to the belief that something so seemingly simple can truly take infinite lifetimes to achieve. The good news is it gets easier with practice. It’s my hope that by acquiescing quickly and easily when I feel threatened or in danger on the road, I skirt the escalation of events such as occurred with the 3 Lost Girls, when their refusal to pay a small cab fare which was potentially inflated, based on principal, lead to a yelling, spitting cabbie who felt just as wronged as them.

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