Some thoughts on 30...

Yesterday my older and wiser sister-in-law (sorry B, couldn’t resist) asked me how I was spending the last day of my twenties. Last day of my twenties? Oh, yeah, I guess it is. Well, the answer was how I spend most of my Tuesdays these days...on my work computer, wondering if the Tuesday Haggen coupons are going to be any good.

Then she asked me how I spent the last day of my teens. Oh, wow. I guess that was the last time I moved into a new ‘decade’ of life. The last day of my teens...so it was late August of 1999. I was about to start my sophomore year at Western and right about now I would have been getting ready for RA camp. Geek! Little did I know that in two weeks, my boyfriend would dump me and we’d spend the next 2 years torturing each other. August of 1999 I was 3 weeks from meeting my future best friends in Beta stack 6. That same fall I would apply to the University of Edinburgh and get accepted. I would start planning my first trip abroad. I had a green iMac. It was still 5 years until I got a cell phone or a credit card. Jake Loya was a Senior at Ferndale High School, only 5 miles but a million years away.

The last 10 years have been huge. So, I spent the last evening of my twenties sipping a napcap of Talisker on the back patio with JLo. We cheers’d to my evolution thus far; hoping that my next 10 years would be as fun and eventful, although I have my doubts. My twenties have given my thirties some stiff competition. I have no desire to live my twenties over again; lets be clear. But there are some pretty priceless experiences and memories I want to keep in my back pocket - I’d like to be able to pull them out on a regular basis and enjoy them.

I have done some ridiculous stuff to my hair. I’m sure right now Cass is going, um, yeah, your hair has definitely improved. At 20, I was bleaching my hair in the dorm bathroom with about enough bleach to sanitize the whole building. It was long and I was yet to discover the beauty of having it thinned. It was huge and white. Beautiful? No. Always a bit orange at the roots? Yes. When I went to Edinburgh, I doubted being able to find the quality of bleach to which I’d been so accustomed ($4 at Riteaid?). So, I decided to dye it back to its natural color - but I had no idea what that was. I’d been coloring my hair since 1992 at Amanda Brown’s house. Quick math, since I was 13. I was pretty sure it was not as dark as my brown-eyed sisters, but my roots were certainly not blond. So, why not try black. I left for Edinburgh with long, scraggly, black/brown splotchy braids. Cute. Operation bandana (no, this was not cool in Europe, but I also wore my overalls...I couldn’t be bothered to look European). About 6 months after I came home, for my 22nd birthday, my roommates treated me to an actual salon coloring at Cat n Fiddle in Fairhaven. Ah, that’s better. I was hooked. My only hiatus from coloring was for a 9 month Skagway/travel year in which I did go back to my natural color to discover that my natural color is grey. Oh, wow. When did that happen?

I was thinking yesterday about how on your birthday you get ‘anything you want’. I have requested an entire Round Table pepperoni pizza all to myself. And I’m not doing any dishes today. And I’d like to eat an entire box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and maybe drink like 5 cokes and eat 5 orders of Burgerville fries & tartar sauce. Yes, in the last 10 years I’ve gone organic, off processed and fast foods. But, DAMN I could use some on my birthday. I have an indulgent spirit. If we’ve met you know this.

But then I started thinking about what I would really really like if I could have ANYTHING on my birthday. And I thought...I’d like to wake up tomorrow morning at 2010 Mill Avenue in 2001. I want to smell teriyaki coming in my bedroom window. I want to hear the shower going and figure it must be Lisa Marie; no one else in this house showers on Saturdays. I want Karen to be making coffee downstairs and I want all of us to go crawl in Emily’s huge bed. To have my best friends all in our pajamas and under one roof and having nothing bigger going on than a paper due or a 4 hour shift at the Colophon. I don’t want to be 21 forever and I certainly don’t wish away my home with my loving husband, but when I think about indulgence and a luxury of of my twenties, living with my best friends comes immediately to mind. I miss them every day.

I want to remember how nervous I was to go abroad by myself for the first time. Mom & Dad took me to PDX in September of 2000. I almost threw up 3 times at the airport; I was so nervous. Hands down The Most nervous I’ve ever been. And then I want to remember how it felt to get on the bus and arrive downtown Edinburgh and think I had just landed in the middle of a fairytale. I lost a certain amount of sanity through that experience and have foregone many normal and healthy life experiences in my pursuit of travel.

I like thinking about how God has changed my life course over the last 10 years; usually opposing my will as a stubborn and distrustful child. When I applied to grad school, I was convinced I wanted to be a teacher. I got into NYU, I was SO excited to move to New York and go to school. Well...the money didn’t really happen and I ended up getting just a certificate at Western. If I’d gone to NYU, I would have missed the year that Jake and I started dating. If I had $60,000 in student loans, I could have never afforded to go to Skagway or spend the majority of my twenties unemployed. When I finished my cert, I discovered teaching was not for me. I applied for 15 (yes, 15) jobs in ministry. I didn’t get a single one. Notta one. I was sure that was the calling on my life. IF I would have gotten a job in ministry, I never would have gone to Skagway. Working in Skagway has afforded me travel and experience in an industry I love and a career direction I hope someday actually works out. Oh, yeah, and it was a kick ass time for four years. When I lost my job in Skagway, I really felt like the rug got jerked out from under me. But, if it wouldn’t have happened exactly when it did, I wouldn’t have been offered my current job and Jake might not have had a high school friend connection at the lab. We decided to buy a house. If we had bought it any earlier, we wouldn’t have qualified for the first time homebuyer credit. If we bought it any later, the FHA program that financed our first time homebuyer mortgage wouldn’t have existed (HUD pulled the program 6 weeks after we closed). Looking at my life with the perspective of ‘God loves me and only wants good for me’ is one I hope to keep closer to my attitude in my next decade of life.

I was 21 when I met Jake Loya. He was 18. We don’t remember meeting. He remembers the first time he saw me and describes me in such an unfortunate way, I’m not sure I like to hear it - though he always ends it with you were so cute! Really, cause that doesn’t sound like a cute girl, that’s never been my strong suit. But I like thinking about our friendship before anything got romantic. I like remembering things about him that so impressed me - things I still admire about him some, um, lots of years later. I like thinking about that night in the spring of 2002 when he & Anna dropped me off at my house and he told her he’d like to marry someone like me. And I like remembering once manipulating a carpool so only Jake and I rode in my car down to an INN Christmas volunteer day in Seattle. That was Christmas 2002 and yes, I had a boyfriend. The next December (2003) I got off a plane in Oviedo, Spain and risking all kinds of ego finally told him how I felt. He had his camera around his neck and was wearing a plaid button-up shirt. We went on our first date that night and had warm white Russians. Six years later, I'm so thankful for him and for his profound impact on my life.

I got to be there when my dad & brother when to Europe for the first time. I tried to kill them driving on the wrong side of the street. I got to see my baby sister receive her Master’s degree. I got to spend a summer driving my brother around Puget Sound to baseball tournaments (Mom & Dad were good employers). I got to stand with my brother and sister while our sister married our dear Brother in Law. One my favorite moments was watching the video of my sister telling our mom she’s going to be a grandma. This has been a pretty good 10 years for the Stellfoxes.

When my twenties began, I had 2 countries under my belt - the U.S. and Canada (Expo ‘86 and the ‘96 PHS band tour!). Today, I have 34. Jake and I will get to 100; its our goal. I treasure every minute of every trip and love that the following people have involved themselves in my international experience - Megan, Erik, Mike, Brian, (yes, this is in chronological order), Em, Jake, Cass, Kelly, Anna, Mary, Shan, Jeremy, Erin, Marty, Mom, Dad, Shea, Jackson, Hunter & Laura...man, am I forgetting anyone? What a great time’s been had.

A few more highlights; seeing Jake finish a marathon, month-long road trip with Cass, standing on the Great Wall, the Corner Café, moving in with Jake, rescuing my keys out of Walli with a fishing pole, hours of Trivial Pursuit, beer pong at the Pank House, Ski to Sea caravans, my sisters moving to Bellingham, Super Store & Mr. Moon thinking I was Greg’s wife, five life-changing mission trips, my first garden, being really skinny at my wedding, surprising Karen in Texas, surprising Cass with a trip home, surprising Hayley with a trip to San Fran, Anna & Shan’s Moroccan shower, discovering hookah, getting cable in my bedroom, falling in love with cooking, Jake falling in love with Volvos, going through the Panama Canal, Shea & I getting a flat tire on I-5 at 11:00 pm on Christmas Eve, grizzly hunting with Shan & Sev, cruising cruising cruising, driving a bus from Fairbanks to Skagway, crossing the Russian border illegally, finding $20 in a Skagway storm drain, singing really loud with Greg, almost getting washed away down the Deschutes, drinking mulled wine in tiny apartments, finally getting health insurance (my parents were right, its actually kind of nice), perfecting travel packing, shopping for Hayley’s baby.

I’ve never really thought about my age. I have no biological clock to speak of - I really only think of my age as relative, ‘I’m the oldest’ or ‘am I too young or too old to wear this’. But today I’m really thinking about the number. I’m 30. Ok. I have a lot of wonderful things to take with me into my thirties. I hope I change; I hope I keep growing. I guess that’s sort of inevitable if you’re analytical; life doesn’t just happen to you. You know its coming and then you pick it apart, praising yourself for the positive parts and beating yourself up with the negative parts. I hope in the next 10 years, I chill out a little bit. I hope I grow in patience and relax in situations I can’t control. I hope I write more, try more, run more, lose a few more, see more and love my husband more.

I hope on the last day of my thirties, that I can list as easily as I have this morning, all the fantastic, moving and stiring events of the previous ten years. I hope I’m not sitting at my work computer wondering about the Haggen coupons. I hope God will continue to change my course, even if he has to take me kicking and screaming (don’t worry, He’s used to it). I hope (as morbid as this sounds) that I have another 10 years with my family, biological and otherwise. I wonder if Cassie will ever get another perm? Will Hayley have 8 more babies? Will I finally get my coveted British work visa? Like Tim McGraw says, will I eat a few more salads and not stay up so late? Will Comcast finally carry BBC World?

Welp, here I go into my thirties. Sure, why not?

London

I'm going to be in my favorite city in the world in 48 hours. I'm so excited.

What IS it about London? London, London, London. I love everything about London (well, except maybe that its full of the English...they're not consistently cool). I love dark London history, the rank Thames, the inevitable wet/cloudy/coastal weather, movies about London, songs about London, maybe even SOMETIMES the food in London. I like the shopping, the drinking, the cheapest way into and out of the best neighborhoods. I like the cultural marriage of obsession and suspicion that surrounds the Royals. I like that "look right" is painted on crosswalks. I like that the light poles remind me of Mary Poppins- my first association with London. I like Portobello Road market & thinking of all the people who've accompanied me on this treasure hunt. I like the emotional rollercoaster of a $75 bar tab followed by a $15 hostel bed. I like "mind the gap" and other automated English voices demanding order in public places. I like the memories I have from London - getting my knife taken at Buckingham, seeing Narnia at Christmas, many noodle bowls & pints with good friends, leaving a boy I loved at King's Cross Station - wondering if we only loved each other in Europe. I mean, geez, without London I wouldn't even know what a "party tan" is (a sexy fake winter tan).

This trip to London is going to be different than any before. First of all, I'm not trying to cram 10 trips into one this time. And I've never been to London in the summer! So, that's new. We're actually staying in a hotel, too (gasp)! Well, ok, we're only staying in a hotel for one night. We're not ready to go there yet. But, we're staying more central this time at Russell Square rather than the Bayswater cheap hostel row. But, I think the major difference for me will be the total and complete lack of drama. Now, drama can always 'happen' when you're backpacking, but this time - and for the first time - I'm not really bringing any with me.

I have not recently been dumped. I have been married for more than 12 days. I'm not running from anything (though I'm escaping many things - notably different). I'm not going alone. This is not my first trip abroad. I'm not arriving with about 40% of the funds I should have for said trip. I actually have my accomodation booked in advance. Coincidently, I'm not going to be sleeping at any public places. I'm not trying to meet up with a group of friends in a neighborhood I only vaguely know. Its going to be more than 15 degrees. I won't have just come from a country who's gift of gut rot followed me to the UK. I probably won't be starving, broke, crying OR pissed (American definition, please) the entire time. Yes, this trip might actually be a little mild! Dare I say it?!

Ah, to experience mild in London. This i cannot WAIT to do. To truly enjoy...to sip slowly, think clearly and notice sharply all things that make London so wonderful. I won't be buying extra layers or popping into EasyEverythings hoping for an email from someone. I won't be Enroute (enroute with a capital E refers to the constant state of coming into and going out of London) the entire time. I won't be missing my Lover. I won't be missing anything, come to think of it - no offense.

With a clear, mild and stress-free head, I think this trip to London will be unique. To be in London, for London. To be just with Jake. To mockingly sing "feeeed the birds, toppins a bag...". Man they're nasty.

Elizabeth Gilbert said it best in her book "Eat, Pray, Love" - (paraphrase) - "I know what I do not long for, because I know what I long for. I know what it is to long for something because I have longed for travel." That's pretty close, I think.

Preparing for the exhale that is landing at Heathrow, terminal 3. Cheers!

Trouble Shooting, Part 3

Sometimes I comfort myself with a list of experiences and feelings and will not exist in Heaven. Once I pass into the forever-after, there are things I will be happy to leave behind.

For example, today, my clothes are just too tight. In general, I prefer for my clothes not to touch my skin. Anyone who’s ever MET me has seen me in my favorite outfit: my green Evergreen soccer t-shirt (from high school) and my purple skirt (from Goodwill circa 2000). I would wear this everyday and infact recently have requested to be buried in the same. The last year has made it difficult to keep my personal policy of clothes not touching my skin - my first desk job, my crippling discontentment and my rapid approach to 30 have found me outgrowing the clothes I’ve owned for the better part of a decade. Things are tight and uncomfortable. Clothes will not be too tight in Heaven. I will (because I have a merciful savior) be granted the body I’ve always deserved but that was somehow given to Lindsay Schuette on accident.

Also non-existent in Heaven - that ‘oh shit’ that silently follows words out of my mouth that should never have been uttered. Or that feeling when you were spacing out and dropped your speed to 55 in the fast lane and you’ve got 5 cars behind you, just as mad at you would be in their place. Oops! Hangovers, nope they’re gone. Guilt over wasted opportunities and 20-20 hindsight - for example, WHY didn’t I just take the pay cut and fight harder for my job to remain at DAT instead of taking the first job my bruised ego was offered - no point in crying now, but the crying, nope, none of that either. Papercuts, sweat, dead cell phone batteries, long lines, scary dogs, slugs, slivers, bad eyesight, stale crackers, dirty kitchen floors, Sean Hannity, Barkley Haggen, Hummers, Seattle traffic, hang nails, chapped lips, student loan payments, weak routers, getting locked out, port-o-potties, dull knives - none of it! Adios!

Final addition to the list - the ‘uh ohs’ from traveling. All you want to do is put your head on a pillow. You’ve been traveling all day (or all night, or both). You have a reservation for a nice double room at a nice hostel, in a nice city in central Europe - let’s even just say (for kicks of course) that you’re on your honeymoon. You get on the tram, you get off at the right spot, you hold your Lonely Planet map under the glow of a street light, you follow directions precisely. You find the correct building number, you’re SO excited to get inside because its 22 degrees outside and its starting to snow...

Uh Oh: The hostel you booked online doesn’t exist when you arrive.

Plan: Let’s be honest, every single dealing you have on the internet carries with it the risk that you’ll get swindled. Whether or not people even still use the word ‘swindled’ is a separate issue, thank you. Anyway, we know this is a risk. Still, the convenience of the internet is well worth the occasional rip off. When booking hostels online, if you’re booking from a reputable site like hostelworld.com or hostels.com, you’ll only be required to book with 10% deposit. Don’t ever book a hostel online that requires 100% payment to hold your reservation. The good news is, hopefully you’re only into the phantom hostel a few bucks. The bad news is, you got robbed! And now you don’t know what to do! First of all, make double sure you’re in the right place. Ask people on the street. Then, try whatever contact information you have for the hostel. But, don’t break your back over this. If you’re in western Europe - and remember, my definition of western Europe extends well beyond the iron curtain - hostels have no reason to be unidentifiable. If the hostel has absolutely no signage, is on the 5th floor of a locked building with no buzzer, it might as well not exist. These are the details you’ll hope to find on the ‘reviews’ section of your booking engine. If you’ve tried the contact information to no avail, then you’ve made every good faith attempt at following through with your reservation. Now, go find another place to stay. First thing the next morning, email both the hostel directly and the booking engine. Explain when and how you attempting to find & contact the hostel. At this point, you hold the power. The booking engine does NOT want to sponsor a hostel that doesn’t exist or opens & closes without regard for reservations. When you book a hostel on foot rather than through their booking engine, they lose your booking fee. They don’t want that. You’ll most likely get a quick response from the booking engine offering your deposit either returned or applied to your next booking with them. Fine, its only a few bucks. The hostel may or may not respond. At this point, you owe it to the backpacking universe to explain your story on the review section of the booking engine for that hostel. Bad hostels are a black eye for the budget travel community. Shame on you. Note: this entire section does not apply to hostels in the former USSR.

Shea & Kristy, I can't believe you leave in 11 days!!!

Trouble Shooting, Part 2

Wow Jake...that video was exactly what traveling with you is like. Hey bearded man!!

After many, many story swaps over dinner prep & dinner consumption last night with the Loya family (me, Jake & Anna), its become clear to me that with each ‘uh oh’ abroad you gain a greater sense of humor and a greater travel confidence. The more travel confidence you have, the more likely you are to try something, do something or go somewhere that a little fear might have helped you avoid. And so, the stakes are higher, the drama is greater, the stories are funnier and ranker. I don’t even know how much collective time our current household has spent budget traveling, but I can tell you that the ‘listen to the time I really screwed THIS up’ over backpacking went on and on and on.

One of the greatest joys of my life is the fact that my dearest friends and I have traveled both independently and together. After many years of friendship there are still stories to tell, to marvel at, to make fun of. Anna spent 6 months in Europe a few years ago; I thought following her blog religiously, spending hours reviewing pictures and hearing stories upon her return would mean I had a pretty good grasp on what that experience meant to her. But that’s the great thing about traveling - that experience means something different to her now than the day she got home, than 12 months ago, than 5 years from now. The experience that was is always evolving; new life, new ideas bounce off one’s worldview everyday and the value of one’s worldview experiences evolves with it. With travel adventures that are constantly evolving, revisiting them with old friends and a good bottle of red wine - discussing ‘what I felt then’ versus ‘what I feel now’...the whole concept is slow, moving, deep, challenging - much like travel itself.

And to Shea & Kristy...as you wait for plane ticket prices to come down, book hostels that are just a dot on a map, weigh backpacks, buy toiletries and arrange for dog sitters - as you’re doing all the unromantic, housekeeping items, remember that your travels - no matter how screwed up or botched - are a wonderful gift to yourself and to those of us who’ll be lucky to be sitting around a dinner table with YOU in 6 months, 2 years, 10 years ... reliving the experience that was and enjoying the evolution of ‘uh oh’ drama moments into stories that have us rolling on the ground, dying of laughter.

Here are some more trouble shooting ideas to chew on.

Uh Oh: My passport got stolen.

Plan: Ok, getting your stuff stolen is the most violating feeling. When your passport is among one of the casualties, panic is sure to set in. Generally speaking, here’s what you need to do. Find the local police station; file a police report for stolen property. Police department information should be on your Lonely Planet map for a city, for a small town, ask someone. Go into the police station, eek out "stolen" or gesture what you need. Fill out a report. What you write down is not that important, but you’ll need the report # for the American consulate to issue you a new passport. You should get a copy of the police report. Next, look up where the closest American consulate is. There may only be one in the country (again, this information is in your guidebook). Find a phone, call the consulate. You’ll need to travel to their office, but be sure you know their hours, working days and any potential holiday office closures before setting out. They may agree to meet with you even on a day they’re normally closed; afterall, helping Americans abroad is what they do. Get all that information before you make plans to travel to their office. Once you get to the American consulate’s "compound" (depending on the country), you’ll probably have to pass through security to enter. While the consulate and their staff are American, the security guards probably won’t be. Don’t be alarmed, you’re in the right place - if the huge American flags didn’t give it away in the first place. You’ll be escorted into a office that - again depending on the country - may or may not look like a nice DMV. You’ll probably be staring at a large picture of President Obama. Your travel companion may or may not be asked to wait outside. The consulate’s staff will ask you for the following: $some-odd (probably around $175), passport photos, and ID (remember, this is the stuff you’re bringing with you incase this happens). If your wallet was stolen along with your passport and you don’t have any ID, your travel companion may be asked to identify you. They’ll also look up your previous passport and photo in their database. They’ll probably ask you a series of personal questions that would be of public record, for example, where were your parents married, what are your grandparents’ names, where were your siblings born and on what day, etc. I don’t think any wrong answers would disqualify you completely...you can probably answer enough of these correctly to confirm you are you. Now, if you’re able to show them a drivers license, you might not even answer these questions. Finally, they will produce a passport for you. This new passport functions exactly like a real passport except that it’s a temporary passport and is probably only good for one year. It will have this information stamped into it. When you get home, mail it in to the State Department and they’ll issue you yet another passport that is good for 10 years. This USED to be free, I don’t know if it still is. While this passport functions like a real passport, keep your police report with it incase customs officials want to know how you got into the country without a stamp in your shiny new passport. The date of issue should give them a clue, but they may ask.
You can see why I’ve stressed the importance in previous blogs about keeping your passport on your body at all times. Replacing it is a pain.

More to come...oxoxo

Time-Lapse Across China

Time-Lapse Across China
I like this video.
This is my blog post for the year.
-Jake

Trouble Shooting, Part 1

The best thing about budget travel is the unexpected, unplanned, unstructured nature of experiencing a culture. Three hour meals, siestas, non-peak everything, local encounters, journaling for hours, back of the bus, down & dirty...raw adventure is the immeasureable benefit. On the flip side, traveling for adventure rather than leisure gives one a large margin of error. These ‘oh sh*t’ moments are the stuff of legends. With a little forethought, these circumstances can be met with humor and resolve rather than panic. And remember, this is the good stuff...these are the stories you’ll be sitting around telling for the rest of your life.

I’m just laughing to myself right now...thinking about Art & Diana getting on the wrong train and spending the night behind a dumpster, about Holly’s butt shot, Anna’s Gibralter monkey attack, five American girls chasing down an Italian thief in the subway (and catching him!) Spanish police reports, stolen stuff & more stolen stuff, bad choices in Vienna, starving in Dublin, crying in Barcelona, lost in Prague, conned in Yekaterinberg, stalked in Amsterdam, more missed buses and trains than one can count. Many of the solutions I’ll offer in this blog are at the expense of souls whose misfortune has amused and inspired me. Thanks to you misfits in advance. :)

And again, our focus here is Europe.

Uh Oh: We jumped on train without confirming that our rail passes are valid on this route.

Plan: If you’re on a commuter train or a Eurostar (ES) train in Italy, it might not be. You’ll find out very quickly. If you’re onboard with an invalid rail pass, you’ll usually have the option of purchasing the ticket for the journey or getting off at the next stop. The conductor will come around to punch or mark your rail pass and upon your discovery will give you a dirty look and a foreign tongue lecture. It’ll be pretty obvious, I’m sure. Purchase the ticket if you’d like or simply get off and laugh yourself to the ticket window to book a rail pass-valid journey.

Uh Oh: I lost my rail pass.

Plan: You’re SOL unless you bought rail pass protection when you purchased your pass. Should you buy the protection? I’m inclined to say no, just because I don’t buy protection for anything (this from the girl who stowed away on a train for 5 hours hopping between bathrooms because I lost my rail pass - dark). However, you should think of your rail pass as cash, because that’s essentially what it is. Should you buy protection for a $300 single country pass? Probably not. But would you carry $1200 cash around in your pocket? No you wouldn’t - so if you’re buying a 3 month unlimited, buy the pass protection. As for replacing unprotected rail passes...if you’re American, they can only be purchased and delivered to an American address - you’ll cease to see any value in the savings after someone at home overnights it to your hostel. For replacing insured passes, follow the instructions you received with your pass.

Uh Oh: I missed my train connection and now its 10:00 pm and I’m in who-knows-where.

Plan: Many long distance train journeys in Europe require connections just like a flight would. And, its not uncommon for train delays to result in a missed connection. Let’s say, for example, you were so in love with a girl back home that your judgement was clouded the day you booked a train from Rome to Barcelona. Now, lets say that there was a rockslide on the tracks. This delayed your train entering Nice, France. When you got to Nice, you’d missed your connecting train to Barcelona and the next train wasn’t until the following day. And its 10:00 pm. First of all, there is no such thing as stranded in Europe...its just a city you didn’t KNOW you were going to visit. :) Second, thank the Lord for your Lonely Planet. Make a plan before you EVER leave the train station. Make sure you know what time the train is leaving the next morning. In the light (and warmth) of the train station, plot out a plan for finding a bed. This is a good time to approach other bewildered passengers who may be in your same boat. Want to share a cab? Want to walk together to Jo & Flo’s Hostel I see here on the map (ok, that would be a long walk since Jo & Flo’s is in New Orleans). You get the idea. If you’re alone, take a cab (being sure to secure your cab fare before you get in).

Related Uh Oh: I didn’t realize it was rugby weekend in Edinburgh. I didn’t pre-book a hostel and there’s not a bed in town.

Plan: When you’re traveling in non-peak times, you can get spoiled just showing up for accommodation day-of - and you’re probably not tracking national holidays or major sporting events. When possible, always book yourself a bed ahead of time...even the day before. In the above ‘uh oh’, these travelers could have found out quickly that every hostel in town was booked BEFORE arriving in the city. Alas, scotch often got in the way of planning on this venture. So, first of all, hostel desk attendants are usually really helpful. They will most likely offer alternatives for you; maybe even offering to call ahead for you. They may also know locals who routinely rent rooms for overflow. Generally speaking, a hotel room is probably cheaper than hopping on the next train out of town. Not an option? Then it sounds like you’re going to have a night with the airport or train station community!

More to come...

How do I...?

Most questions I’ve had traveling involve the phrase "how do I?..." Travelers love to tell stories...obviously I’m no exception. When I’m listening to someone’s travel stories, I always find myself asking "how did you DO that?" My favorites are usually from Holly’s misadventures around the world...how did you surf down a volcano? How DID you find a bungalow on the beach for $5/day? I’ll find myself wandering around a city and a friend’s story comes to mind. I can’t go to Edinburgh without thinking about my friend Brian scoring a job in a pub, completely under the visa-radar. How did he DO that?

From "big" things like scoring a job abroad to little things like making it through airport security unfondled, there are things that seasoned travelers do/have done that bare repeating in light of this Euro budget travel blog series. And Shea & Kristy, when you come home, you’ll have "how do I’s" of your own to pass around. I look forward to hearing them!

Here are a few...

How do I... use my cell phone in Europe?

There are a couple things you can do. First of all, before you leave, call your provider and ask what kind of coverage you have in Europe. Ask good questions. Its entirely possible that you have decent coverage and that your roaming fees aren’t much more than Canada. With the small amount you’ll actually use your phone, this might work just fine. If you DON’T have coverage in Europe and its too expensive to add it for the duration of your travel, AND your phone uses a SIM card, you may be able to buy pre-paid SIMs that function like calling cards. If you’re going to be in Europe for more than 2 months, put your phone on "away" mode and get a new cell phone in Europe. Look for "Orange" shops...you can get a cell there. European cell service tends to be more expensive than American cell service in terms of cost-per-minute, so Europeans are text-crazy. Once you know where you’ll be getting your European cell (say, in the first city you visit), post a question on Lonely Planet Thorn Tree and ask the travel geeks about the best deals and any residency requirements for acquiring a cell.

How do I...make money abroad?

This isn’t a simple answer. In the world of Craigslist, job postings are easier to come by. However, its going to be harder to communicate over email about things like "hey, can you hire me under the table?". That might get a bit dark. Now, working in Europe usually falls into two categories: either you need money because you’ve run out, or you’re trying to get a job to stay. Assuming you're not trying to secure a work visa, your number one resource for making money illegally :) is that hostel front desk attendant. You may score a 2 day gig cleaning up trash after a big event or washing dishes in a pub for a week...you know, the kind of glamorous jobs you can probably imagine. You may also see postings at the hostel looking for English tutors or other side-job postings that won’t require proof of citizenship. Use the same good judgement you would at home. Now, for work that will allow you to stay indefinitely...each country has unique work visa requirements. This topic is a bit too long for our purposes here. BUT, what I will say is that if you’re looking for a live/work situation, check out http://www.wwoof.org/ - World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms. You exchange a few hours of work per day on family farms for free room & board. You arrange the length of time you want to stay. This is cool on many levels...not only are you staying for free and experiencing farm life in Europe, but you’re making more local contacts that could open doors to a new life on the other side of the pond.

How do I....extend my stay?

Can’t get enough? Want to stay longer? Its alllll about your flight home. Here’s a make-your-life-simpler tip. Print out and bring along the conditions under which you purchased your flight. Many times the cheapest flights have the greatest restrictions and heftiest change penalties. Ideally, you have a flexible enough flight to pay the $100 change fee (or whatever) to push your flight back. Bite the bullet and call the airline for help. As for limits on the length of time you can stay in any one country, it varies. Be sure to research visa and/or time restrictions for tourists if you plan to stay in any one country longer than 30 days. In many cases, you just have to leave the country and come back.


How do I...exchange currency?

The Euro has made cash transactions a lot easier in Europe. You can take out cash in Frankfurt and use it in Rome. Gone are the days of un-exchangeable coins at the bottom of your bag. However, not every country in the EU is on the Euro, so you’ll still have some exchanging to do. EU countries that are NOT on the Euro include Denmark, Sweden, UK, Estonia (pending), Latvia, Lithuania, Romania, Bulgaria, Czech Republic & Poland (I hope I’m not outdated here). You’ll find exchange booths at train stations and airports; many won’t take coin and will charge you a percentage of what you need exchanged. In short, it can cost you 5 Euro to exchange 25 Euro into UK pounds, for example. Ideally, only take out in cash what you’ll need/use. IF you need to exchange, the cheapest way is usually to just trade currencies at the hostel with another traveler. Ask the front desk what the current exchange rate is (or look it up at http://www.xe.com)/) and just trade. This is pretty common and gets you out of paying commissions to the booth people. And, don’t exchange your pounds. British currency (GBP) - like the US dollar - is widely accepted as an alternate form of payment and having a stash of it is a good idea (for example, Egyptian visas can only be purchased in GBP or USD - random - we didn’t know this and thankfully between the two currencies, had enough to buy our visas).

How do I...get out of a really awkward political conversation?

One of the most interesting travel experiences is when you realize you’re the first American someone has ever met. This WILL happen. Now, 99% of Europeans you’ll encounter will be curious about your life/country in the same polite and respectful way you’re curious about theirs. BUT, you’ll also encounter people who are very excited to tell you what they think of ‘your country’. Here are my thoughts on this subject: for the conversation that is a friendly give-and-take about culture & politics...enjoy. For the conversations that start to go south because a) the person appears to know more about American politics than you do and you’re starting to feel stupid b) the person obviously has NO idea what they’re talking about c) you’re both very drunk d) the person has been to NYC and therefore thinks they are The Authority on Americanism - Here’s my suggestion: if you don’t have ANY US political knowledge, get some before you go. Plan on conversing on a basic level about our government. Most Europeans believe that the President has full power and authority to do whatever he wants. You should brush up on the three branches of the federal government. Most Europeans live in countries smaller than our States and are interested to hear that States have their own governments. Europeans follow our politics WAY more than we follow theirs...don’t be surprised that they know a few key American politicians. You should know a few, too. I hope hope hope that you won’t have to have a conversation with anyone about President Bush. It’s not pretty. My European friends have confirmed the media hype that President Obama is internationally popular. This should make things easier for American backpackers! Yeah!

A couple more topics that might come up -

the Iraq/Afghanistan War...now is a good time to form an opinion if you don’t already have one. If you don’t have an opinion or don’t want to talk about it, come up with a conversation closing statement like "you know, this whole thing is such a mess, I don’t even know what to believe anymore."

Socialized Medicine...Europeans are curious about our healthcare system and how it functions privately. They might ask you things like how much your premiums are, how long you have to wait for appointments...that sort of thing. The differences are interesting.

Taxes...Do some math and figure out how much you pay in taxes (%). European (Socialist) taxes are very high and this is a hot topic of conversation. Ask them how much they paid for university.

Their form of government...might be a good idea to brush up on current European leaders and systems of government. What’s a Parliamentary system? IS it democratic? Spending 10 minutes on the internet will make you feel a lot more comfortable if it comes up. All it takes is one good question "Do you think being Scottish has helped or hurt Gordon Browne’s popularity?" to make you sound kick-ass and to turn the conversation away from something you don’t have a clue about. Or, if you find yourself in a no-win over politics, my favorite conversation ender is "I guess what it comes down to is the disconnect between effective governance of 4 million people and that for 300 million." Try that one. Or, "well, I guess the one thing we can agree on is our undying affection for beer."

How do I...communicate in a language I don’t speak?

First of all, English is widely spoken in Europe. Where you can’t use English, some functional hand jestures usually work. But sometimes the message is too complex to be subjected to grunts and pointing. For example, it can be difficult to convey "I’d like to buy a train ticket. With a sleeper. Departing Milan at 10:30 pm. To Paris. Two of them" in jestures. So, what do you do? Write It Down. The last couple pages of the Lonely Planet are for notes. Jot down "2 Milano–>Paris 22:30 posto letto" [or whatever the guidebook says to call it] and slide it under the ticket window. This accomplishes a couple things - it hopefully gets you the ticket you want and it also encourages the other person to write down any message they have for YOU. Its easier to look up "sold out" if you see it written down rather than hear it spoken.

Stay tuned for more topics along this line as we begin discussing some Euro Budget Travel Trouble-Shooting...aka the "uh...oh's"...