Euros Ate My Dollars

We have (finally) added restaurant reviews to our Trip Planning section! It is incomplete, like most of the other sections, but thanks to the expense and irregularity of internet access around here, we’ve reluctantly realized we’re going to have to wait until we’re back home to update the sections completely.

Secondly, we’re excited to bring to you AWESOME EUROS ATE MY DOLLARS T-SHIRTS. We’ve been working on a logo since Greece, but only now getting around to doing anything with it. Combining my rockin’ computer skillz and Ben’s love of vintage video games, it officially makes us the least cool people you know.

Visit our CafePress store to check out the tees … we hope to offer more products in the very near future!

So I was browsing CNN.com the other day trying to catch up on the most recent election news from back home when I ran across this headline:

Booming Baht Makes Cheap Thailand Vacations Impossible

ARE YOU FREAKIN’ KIDDING ME??

Because he has extremely good taste and can recognize genius when he spots it, we were recently contacted by Eric from TravelBlogs.com to see if we’d be interested in doing an interview for the site. As if our blog doesn’t give us enough self-indulgent opportunity to spout off about ourselves, we excitedly agreed. If you want to read MORE about us (and the ups and downs of traveling as a couple), you can check out the interview here.

Because we get so many questions about how we travel, and because the know-how of fellow travelers was invaluable during our own trip preparations, we’ve launched a “trip planning” section, accessed through the above menu bar. It includes tips on accommodation, transportation, budget travel and packing for long-term travel (and we hope to add a restaurant reviews section shortly!). We’ve been compiling this information since Greece, but only now getting around to publishing it. We’ll be continually updating and changing the information, so stay tuned! Please let us know if you have any questions or would like to see something added. Enjoy!

Dear Europe,

It is with mixed emotion that I leave you, after five months of living with you. You’ve given me the best experiences of my life thus far, and I will never forget you. Unfortunately, in return, you’ve taken all of my dollars, you wily minx, you, so I must bid you adieu.

Who are you, Europe? Do you know? You are immensely proud of your glorious past, that’s for certain. It’s true: you were the shining star of centuries come and gone. Now you are fiercely defensive, insistent that your fifteen minutes are not over. You’ve jumped the shark, mon cher, and it’s time to face it.

Is there room for you, Europe, with all your history and art, in this internet age? Globalization is knocking at your door, threatening to dissolve individual cultures and identities. Is it possible to modernize without forsaking your heritage? You must find a way, Europe. Nations of the world will once more look to you for guidance as their cultures become endangered. This is your opportunity to lead again!

You’re an interesting place, Europe (I know, you hate it when I refer to you as a collective). Your tiny little space on the globe is jam-packed with dozens of distinct nationalities, all attempting to coexist despite centuries-long political, religious, and racial strife. Thank God for football where all remaining tensions can be played out on the field.

Not only are all your bits and pieces trying to live peacefully together, you must tolerate the ever-increasing influx of foreigners landing on your shores each day. I’ve never been to a place that both desperately loves and loathes tourists as much as you, Europe. It kills you to admit it: I know, you need me, don’t you? And yet you want to wring my little American neck, too. Thankfully, we have the Germans, our common scapegoat, who everyone in Europe loves to hate. It’s okay: let’s all hate them, so we don’t have to hate each other! They are ridiculous, aren’t they?

I feel comfortable with you, Europe. I feel as if you could plop me down in any one of your magnificent cities and I’d have a pretty good idea of how to get around. Thank you for making me confident that I could make a life in a foreign land, something I never knew or trusted about myself before. Unfortunately, my complacency with you is just another sign that it’s time to go.

Once in Prague, we recognized, amongst all the Czech, a woman speaking Greek, and we were able to greet her in her native tongue. On my very last day with you, I decided to take an early-morning walk to the Sacre Coeur to enjoy the beautiful, misty Parisian views one last time. While walking back, I was approached by two Spanish-speaking tourists. They asked me for directions in very uncertain French, and were surprised when I was able to direct them using Spanish.

So, thank you, Europe, for making me feel like a woman of the world even though I know I am so not.

Thank you, with your smorgasbord of ethnicities, your natives, immigrants and visitors, for showing me that everyone in the world is so different, but also so much the same.

You have stolen my heart; I will return. Until then, mon amour…

Ciao,

Brittany

Last week Ben got an email from a friend back home asking him how our vacation was going. We were both momentarily confused. Vacation? Who’s on vacation??

Because here’s the thing no one tells before you leave: this sort of travel is exhausting. It is, by far, the most mentally, physically and emotionally draining experience I’ve ever undertaken.

But in all my hours of blog-reading and message-board-surfing to prepare for this trip, not a single backpacker mentioned the toll long-term travel takes on your mind and body. So that’s why I feel inclined to dedicate one entry to the not-so-perfect facet of travel.

Of course, everyone knows that this sort of travel is tiring. How could it not be? Enduring 24-hour international bus rides. Hiking several miles every day. Switching hostel bunk beds every night. Struggling to communicate your every basic need through an ever-changing language barrier. The daily battle to plan the next leg of your journey, with no knowledge of your next destination, no information on how to get there, and no internet access.

Yes, you’ll experience the happiest moments of your life while traveling. But along with the emotional highs come equally severe emotional lows – days when you just want to scrap the entire trip and go home where life is easy and people love you.

Which brings up the most emotionally draining factor of traveling: homesickness. I suspect this is highly personal and different for everyone. For me, after the initial pangs of homesickness wore off, I grew sort of numb to it. We were seeing and doing so many amazing things I almost didn’t have time to be homesick.

But along came Christmas (having never missed a holiday at home in all my 25 years). It also happened to be the halfway mark of our trip, which brought with it many conflicting emotions: I can’t believe our trip is halfway done! Wait, we’re only halfway through? So just when you think you’ve got a handle on the whole homesickness thing, you find yourself weeping profusely in a Prague metro station, clinging to your boyfriend, being eyed nervously by old Czech men, all because you’re not going to be there on Christmas morning to see what Santa brings your brother and sister. Your 18- and 23-year-old brother and sister. The exhaustion of traveling manifests itself in unexpected ways.

Compared to most backpackers, Ben and I take it easy. We never spend less than five days in one destination. We take time to maintain this blog to keep up with people at home. Many fellow travelers we meet scoff at our modus operandi (there are always a few travel elitists in hostels who think that they travel “better,” know more, and understand the world more than you ever will). “You’re spending how long in Prague??” they say. “But what will you do?”

I swallow the urge to snap, “see a little more than the museum, jackass.” But then I look at these people, who sleep most nights on trains, stumbling into the hostel, barely aware of where they are, smelling kind of funky, dark purple bags under their eyes, and can’t help but scoff at them when they insist they’re “having the time of my life, dude!”

It’s hard not to get sucked into the GO! GO! GO! mentality of these people – if you don’t see ____ then your whole trip was WASTED. Wake up at dawn! Visit the sites! Party in Euro-clubs until 4 am! Repeat!

I crashed in Barcelona. I think it was after our tenth straight night of sleeping on the floor. I had a bad cold I hadn’t been able to shake for a month. We were walking down Las Ramblas discussing the next leg of our journey: our tour of Andalucia. I was confused – why wasn’t I looking forward to this more?

It dawned on me suddenly: I just can’t do this anymore. So I stopped abruptly in the street, turned to Ben, and told him so. I don’t care if I don’t see all the “must-sees”; I don’t care what our guidebook says, or what other travelers say. All I want to do is chose a small town in Andalucia – one that isn’t mentioned in any book – rent a tiny apartment and do nothing for two weeks. I saw the relief in Ben’s eyes and almost instantaneously, at the mere suggestion, we felt better.

And so that’s exactly what we did.

I don’t know why travelers don’t discuss these aspects of long-term travel more. And I certainly don’t mean to speak for everyone (although it’s safe to say that I’ve never seen anyone more exhausted than a backpacker on month number six). I think it isn’t mentioned because when someone makes this decision – to drop everything, put life on hold, risk money and career – that person feels a need to convince themselves and everyone else that every single moment is THE BEST EVER.

But, if it were easy, it wouldn’t be nearly as fulfilling or worthwhile. Because don’t all meaningful experiences in life require a little work? Do you think going on a life-changing, soul-searching adventure to places unknown comes without challenge? To ignore the hardships and disappointments seems to be ignoring an important part of the journey.

Okay, I’m done my proselytizing for the day. Ben and I put our self-discovery on hold in the small town of Arcos de la Frontera, where 70 degree weather and daily siestas made Operation: Rejuvenation a huge success!