Courtney and I have
been traveling through Europe for a solid two weeks now, and - like always
happens while one travels - we have learned and experienced a lot. I tried to condense our recent adventures
into ten helpful tips that we have discovered first-hand. Enjoy!
Eurotrip Life Lessons
#1. Contrary to the ancient myth and general
public opinion, there is such thing as a friendly Brit. We entered London July 10th under
the previous assumption that British men were crude, drunken, and had really
bad teeth. None of this proved to be
wrong; however, Courtney and I also had the fortune of meeting several kind
Londoners based solely on our interesting accents. We seem to have a knack for making friends in
McDonalds and small, dark pubs; but our most wonderful interaction happened in
the rain. Classy army-veteran Mark
offered to share his umbrella as Courtney and I had made every tourists' worst
mistake—forgoing our raingear due to a misleading morning blue sky. He offered countless random facts about
Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, and the Parliament Buildings as we strolled the
streets using his sturdy umbrella for shelter.
Afterwards, he led us down a side-alley where the second oldest pub in
England, the Red Lion, was perched. We were thankful for the friendship and we quickly realized that people are people, wherever you go.
#2. You don’t need to clutch your bag like a
newborn baby to avoid being pick-pocketed.
Yes, there are pickpockets, and you should be careful; but most tourists
that find themselves targets and victims are doing something wrong. It’s all about being smart with your valuable
possessions. After a long second day
exploring London, Courtney searched her camera bag frantically for the key to
the hotel room. “It’s not here,” she
insisted, and I checked my bag too just in case. Defeated, we trekked into the lobby and
explained what happened. The man behind
the desk handed us a new key hesitantly.
We returned to our room and Courtney dug into her camera case, emerging
with—you guessed it—our original key. It
was a close call, in a way. Turns out
it’s much easier to suspect something was stolen by someone else rather than lost yourself.
As a side note, London boasts impeccable
fashion sense. Trends include shirts that are shorter in the front, quite
see-through, and--my personal favorite--tights over shorts (I sorta fit in!). It was impossible to open your eyes anywhere in London
without seeing the British flag. Perhaps it was thanks to the upcoming Summer
Olympics more than anything, but nevertheless, Courtney and I found a warm
welcome in the rainy city through the patriotic people.
#3. Alcohol is way more fun on the streets. Oh, and don’t worry about bringing your ID,
no one checks anyways. When you go out
for a smoke, it is perfectly acceptable to carry your pint out with you and
continue to drink. You can’t veer too
far from the pub, but it’s still a step up from Canada’s strict policy. Although neither Courtney nor I smoke, we found it appropriate to venture outside
and enjoy our drinks under the canopy of the bar, inhaling the fresh fumes of
the night air masked by thick tobacco, like true Brits do.
#4. Always know the transportation cut off
time. The Metro is called the Tube
in London, and red Double Decker buses are literally everywhere. By the end of our week in London I finally
felt as though I had a solid grip on the Tube underground, and I was confident
in my ability to find our way home to King’s Cross Station at night. However, Courtney and I forgot to take into
consideration the closing time of the Tube each night—midnight. An annoyed bus driver let us off in a
deserted area of town, where strange men lurked in the shadows. Jumpy and terribly afraid, we found our way
to a bus station where the correct night bus number stopped and brought us home. Nothing bad happened, but the situation we
had got ourselves into was not one I wish to be in again.
#5. Laugh
at the metropolitan police.
Seriously. They don’t do
anything, anyways, as a few young Brits told us. Courtney and I were sitting outside a large
festival, Hard Rock Calling, listening to needtobreathe in the periodic
sunshine when two cops noticed my giggle fit.
Sauntering over to us, one inquired, “What’s so funny?” To which I hastily replied, “I was simply
admiring your hat.” He handed his hat to
me and demanded that we take a picture.
Laughing, the four of us discussed backpacking and the dreary weather and
Alberta. We found a wonderful place to
watch Lady Antebellum from the backstage entrance, when the same two cops
approached us and offered us free concert tickets. A man had offered them to the police, but
they had to refuse—and instead of asking someone they really knew, they thought
of us. Courtney and I got through the
muddy gates and ran up to the stage where we got to watch Bruce Springsteen in
the open, clear air of Hyde’s Park.
#6. Cider is sweet, beer is black,
and more than both are usually on tap.
I’m not used to cider back at home, but I love it here. It tastes like apples or pears and flows
freely from a keg. Guinness is the
national drink. It looks like black, cold coffee
and tastes ten times worse. Courtney
usually opted for Stella Black or Fosters and I would indulge in Magner’s Cider or Pim’s
lemonade. My favorite part was the pint glasses they'd serve: the brand of the beverage would always decorate the outside of the glass, so you would always know exactly what each glass contained.
#7. Hostels
over hotels, every single time. Not
only was our hotel room the size of a matchbox, but they never actually cleaned
our sheets—the staff only made the bed. We
had approximately two centimetres of floor space each and a springy twin bed to
share at night. Although we had a sink
in our room, we shared the toilet and shower with two other rooms on our
floor. Calculating in the extreme cost
of food, a hostel is a much better deal and a far better way to meet fellow
travelers. Things to know for next time,
I guess!
#8. Trust
your mom’s opinion, even when she sends you to a park overflowing with nudity. Vigelands Parken, in the middle of
Oslo, Norway, was brimming over with bright flowers, shirtless men playing football
(soccer to us North Americans), and extremely inappropriate naked statues. The castle, which was under construction, was
much less impressive than the bridge of nude people and orgy tower. Thanks mama!
#9. Norwegians
love wieners. I know, laugh it up,
Alison said wieners. But it’s true. They are long and skinny and flavourful and available
at every gas station corner store.
Courtney’s relatives are addicted to the hamburger hot dogs and shrimp
salad toppings, but my personal favorite is the bacon-wrapped cheese in a bun. Takk!
#10. When
in doubt, jump shot. Pretty smiling
pictures get boring far too soon, so we began taking photo opportunities as a chance to do
something ridiculous. We got some
strange looks and a few giggles, but the pictures ended up awesome. You can’t force a smile while jumping in
front of a grass-covered roof in the green hills of Norway. As the
sites bring out everyone’s camera, Courtney and I fooled around photo bombing
the best ones, and ended up making more friends than enemies... so far.
That's all for now, but don't fret - we've still got three countries left!
Until next time, hadda!
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