So ever since I have gotten back from my massive trek across Europe almost a year or so ago, people have been asking me about my experiences over on the other side of the pond. I also happen to know a lot of people who are taking some time off to travel during the near future, so I thought I would share some of my advice, coupled with a few horror stories to hopefully help people from making the same mistakes I did.
First things first: BURN YOUR LONELY PLANET, ROUGH GUIDE, FODOURS, or whatever other worthless guidebook you have probably purchased. The most useful thing it will be to you during your travels would be toilet paper when the local latrine has run out, or as a doorstop. I too made the mistake of dropping a few hundred dollars on guides that would just take me to the same restaurants and sights as the thousands of fanny-pack wearing tourists who had purchased the book. I spent hours highlighting the things I wanted to see, the foods I wanted to try, and when I arrived I was heartbroken that my “rustic country villages” resembled giant stretches of kitschy gift shops. Lesson learned. This isn’t to say that a little planning isn’t necessary for a trip, but really, all you need to know is only a few clicks away on the Internet. Save yourself the cash, and the space in your backpack.
On the subject of a pack, aside from the actual countries that you intend on visiting, this will probably be the second most important decision you make for your trip. I can’t help but laugh whenever I see some moron attempting to haul two massive wheely suitcases up several flights of stairs, those are something else to leave at home. Invest in a solid 65 liter pack, you won’t need anymore space than that, trust me. Your best bet is to have some granola cookie sort actually fit you properly for one at your nearest Mountain Equipment Coop. When it comes to this sort of thing, those hippies have it handled. If you’re thinking “Allison, how the hell do you expect me to fit all of my worldly possessions into a bag smaller than what your average hobo carries around?” Well, this is where you get creative. I for one am probably one of the most materialistic people you will ever meet, and I like the comforts of home. That said, I managed to pack probably enough clothes that I wouldn’t have to do laundry for three solid weeks, and even a bloody shower loofa. The trick is to go get a pack of compression bags, which basically resemble giant sandwhich baggies that you stick your clothes in, and then sit on top of to suck the air out. In a matter of minutes, your entire wardrobe is basically the size of a bento box.
While traveling, I would always have people laugh at me when I told them I had been backpacking through Europe over the past few months. Their responses would usually be something along the lines of “But you’re so clean! You don’t look like a dirty pot smelling hooligan.” The thing is, you don’t have to. I always scoff at the hardcore travel blogs that advise people to pack two tshirts, a sweater, and a couple of pairs of pants. You don’t even want to know how many pairs of underwear they tell people to take on a voyage that will last for MONTHS. The thing is to take clothes that are versatile, and that you won’t care if they get shredded to pieces by a particularly temperamental washing machine in Barcelona. (This would be one of the lessons that I learned the hard way.) If you take clothes that can get you from pounding the dusty streets of Lisbon, to a reasonably fancy dinner, you’re set. Make sure you have enough of your medications, and pack extra just to be sure. Explaining to a Greek pharmacist what kind of birth control you need, while comedic, is not very effective. Aside from forgetting your passport, anything else that you leave at home can easily be purchased abroad, (unless you are visiting some sort of third world country, then you’re just screwed) so don’t sweat it.
While going through customs, don’t be that douchebag that holds everyone up because you packed something in your bag you shouldn’t have. (I was this said douchebag when I forgot about a pocket knife that I had left in my carry on. Ever since, I have been taken through additional screening at every airport I have been through.) Aside from knives, this includes drug paraphernalia. Leave your bong at home, or stick it in your checked luggage.
So at this point, I have hopefully gotten you through customs, if not, hopefully you are not being held in some Albanian interview room, being interrogated about the “bomb” in your bag, that turned out to be a vibrator. While you are on your cross continental flight, take the time to do the following things, because chances are that your inflight movie is going to suck anyways.
- 1. Learn how to read a map. I know this would seem obvious, but you would be surprised how many people cannot tell which way is up, let alone which way is North. The maps the hostels give you are always shit, so pick up a half decent map of the city once you get into the airport or train station.
- 2. Learn a few key phrases if you are going into a country where English isn’t their official language. Most likely, the people you meet will know a few garbled phrases, but won’t necessarily be willing to say them. (I have since met a lot of wonderful French people since my stay in Paris, but Parisians are NOTORIOUS for this.) Simple things like “Hello” “Goodbye” “Thank You” “Where is…” and “I don’t speak…” will suffice.
- 3. Figure out what the emergency numbers are. If you get run over by a moped, you’re going to want to know who to call. 911 isn’t universal.
At this point, you are hopefully going to have arrived at your hostel in one piece. I cannot be held responsible for the moronic choices that you may have made between there and the airport. I can honestly stay that out of any choice in accommodations, I preferred hostels hands down. Aside from the occasional sketchy establishment, which looked more like a heroin den than a youth hangout, they were really well maintained, and proved to be the easiest places to meet people. I did all my bookings through HostelWorld.com, which has a handy little feature of seeing what other people thought about the place. This saved me from what would have most assuredly been a disaster, when I saw a well priced flat advertised, which unbeknownst to me was situated in the middle of the Red Light district. Needless to say, I booked my bed up the road.
When it comes to hostels, there are a few things that you should check out. If you really want to know if a place is clean, look the bathrooms. Chances are that if you wouldn’t take a shower there, you wouldn’t want to get into one of their beds. That being said, don’t expect them to be in the condition of a five star hotel, if you’ve lived in res, you have basically already had the hostel experience. Similarly, this experience entails sharing a room with others, binge drinking, and possibly promiscuous sex, which brings me to my next section: hostel life.
There is nothing I hate more than a messy roommate. Seriously, they were the banes of my existence while I traveled. I don’t want to wake up to see your thong underwear spread across the floor, or the remnants of last night’s drunken run to MacDonalds, and don’t you even fucking think of taking more than your share of your clothes hangers in the closet. Chances are that if you are traveling alone, your roomates are going to be some of the first people you meet, and your security blanket for your first few days of the trip. Getting on their good side couldn’t hurt, as they can probably tell you the places worth seeing, and those where you should just buy the post card. The best way to get chummy I found, was to buy the first round at the hostel bar, as no starving traveler is going to turn down a free beer (even if it tastes like cat piss.) As a side note, avoid any Sangria that is served out of a box, because regardless of the amount that you drink, you will feel like shit the next morning.
I don’t care what you say; you are going to wake up hung over more than your fair share of times. From experience, I can tell you that feeling ill in a hostel is probably one of the worst things you will ever experience, so if you can narrow your chances of heaving up into your room’s garbage can, do it. Alcohol is the main social lubricant of a hostel, so most nights you will find yourself wandering down to the bar for an evening of shenanigans. The trick is to know when to draw the line, like, when a 200 pound Aussie guy challenges you to a tequila drinking contest, don’t do what I did, save yourself the regret and politely decline.
Just like tequila contests are a bad idea, so is dorm sex. Whether or not you are the perpetrator, or you have to sit through the headboard knocking of your roommates, it’s probably not going to be a good night either way. Most hostel sex is drunk sex, and as we all know, drunk sex is not good sex. If you still insist on getting down and dirty with the guy/girl down the hall with the foxy accent, be smart about it and wear a bloody condom. Most hostels have giant bins of them either in the washrooms or at the reception desk, so do yourself a favor and pick them up. If you are the one having to sit through the love fest, my best advice would be to let them know you are awake, I would occasionally achieve this by cranking the music up on my I Pod. If this wasn’t enough to deter them, well, then at least I didn’t have to hear it.
While your friends and family probably do not want to hear about your sexual exploits, they probably are interested in keeping in touch with you. If you take a cell phone with you, be sure to invest in a solid international plan BEFORE you go, or you will end up getting bent over by long distance fees. In my opinion, in order to save yourself from writing the same damn e-mail 25 times, just start up a travel blog, and let people read it for themselves, and occasionally skype your parents or friends from the dodgy internet café down the street.
Finally, my last piece of advice to you would be that unless it is going to get you arrested, kidnapped, or put in the hospital: go for it. (Even then there are certain acceptable exceptions.) Travel without regret, see everything there is to see, and go off the beaten path. You’re only young once, and chances are that you aren’t going to have the balls to go cliff diving in Portugal when you’re 65.
So, what the hell are you waiting for?
Last night I went to check out Steve Aoki at The Whiskey. It was the first big show that I've been to since I saw MSTRKRFT back in the summer, and he did not disappoint. The night was pretty slow to begin with, N and I thought we would be safe if we hit up the bar a little later than usual. We both learned our lesson when we saw MSTRKRFT and by the time the first three DJs had finished, we were both dehydrated, tired, and cranky. It took a vodka redbull or two before the alcohol worked it's magic and I was wide awake and liquored up enough to dance. 
