Peripatetic Phenomena

“Gracias,” I said as I was handed a small cup of tinto. Order a tinto in Buenos Aires, almost 5,000 kilometers south of here in the “Coffee Triangle” in Colombia, and you would be handed a shimmering deep red glass of malbec from Mendoza. But I was at a coffee farm in one of the premiere coffee growing regions in the world, about an hours walk down a dusty gravel road from the small town of Salento. The owner of the farm, Don Elias, whose leathery hands and weathered, wrinkled face had seen many days picking coffee cherries under the hot sun, had just prepared me a fresh cup of coffee - tinto! He was wearing a beige panama hat, expertly weaved from taquilla straw in Ecuador. Indeed, Panama has stolen the name and garnered undeserved attention for this famous Ecuadorian hat. But the Panamanians are not at fault! These hats were shipped to the Isthmus of Panama before being sent all across the world and were popular during the construction of the canal, as they provided fashionable and effective protection from the blistering Panama sun. Teddy Roosevelt wore one when he visited the Isthmus during construction of the canal. Hemingway was also often seen donning a signature Monticristi. 

I watched as Don Elias took a handful of beans, grown on the steep hillside behind his small house and roasted in a pan that morning, and threw them into the heavy steel funnel. He spun the crank by hand and immediately that unmistakable aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the air. The grounds were placed in a cone made of cloth, and hot water was gingerly poured over them, producing the incredibly fresh and delicious cup of coffee that was just given to me, a taste of this man’s lifeforce, an offering of friendship. As I thanked him, he responded as every Colombian does without fail: “¡Con gusto!” 

An understanding of Spanish isn’t requisite to get the gist of this one: with gusto, with great enthusiasm and pleasure! In Mexico, when you say gracias you might receive a “de nada” in reply. It’s nothing. In Spain, the clever counter is as simple as “a tí.” Thanks, to you! Spanish is one of the most geographically widespread languages in the world, perhaps only trailing English, and with this the traveler can delight in the many variations and colloquialisms from city to city and country to country. “Con gusto” is fitting for the Colombians, whose warmth and zeal is unmistakable. 

After a six hour bus ride north from Salento, I find myself in Medellín, built through and up the hills of a long valley, with tall red brick apartment buildings dotting the slopes. Touted as “the most murderous city in the world” only 25 years ago, the City of Eternal Spring is now flourishing, a happy example of urban renewal. I am at a coffee shop in El Poblado, equipped with the same comforts of an overpriced hipster coffee shop in Manhattan. Wood-panelled decor, a mammoth La Marzocco espresso machine, reliable wifi, latte art. This wasn’t Colombia, it was gentrified Medellín. This sort of homogeneous modernization is happening everywhere, from Bogotá to Bosnia. It takes the culture out of cities and makes every place look and feel the same. The traveler is forced to search hard for unique characteristics and subtle eccentricities, instead of grappling with and enjoying stark surface dissimilarities. Yet as much as I despise this transformation towards sameness, after roughing it on the road for a while I was content sipping on a cappuccino at a tasteful, modern café. 

I haven’t jetted off to a developing nation in quite some time, constrained by the tight grips of medical training in America. But this short trip has offered reflection and interpretation. My experience of travel is different then it was two years ago. I am more mature and my worldview is less romanticized. When I left for this trip, I was tired. This shaped my experience and reduced my tolerance for discomfort and my capacity for optimism. 

When I first started traveling the world, I had an idealistic view of the whole experience. I wanted to live a life where that was all I ever did. Now I am more aware of the warm familiarity, creature comforts, and guiding routine I leave behind when abroad. I don’t have to make a new friend or sleep on a different mattress every single day. The characteristics that make travel hard are the same ones that also make self-discovery and wonder possible. You have to be willing to be uncomfortable and to put serious effort and energy into exploration, movement, rapport, and revelation. 

I have literally had the gap year of my dreams, living through what I had planned to be a perfect year. It was perfect. In the last fourteen months since I've graduated college, I've done so much, seen so many places and things, met so many new friends and strengthened bonds with old ones, and experienced the world in the way I think it should always be experienced - that is, to experience it in its fullest, richest, most exciting reverberation. 

In the past year plus a few months, I have helped lead a mobile health clinic in the Andes highlands of Peru and hiked to the top of Machu Picchu Mountain. I've worked in a wine lab and brewed my own Belgian beer. I've ridden a century on my bike, three times. I've interviewed for ten M.D. programs around the country's greatest cities, from New York to Boston to Chicago to LA, and ultimately been accepted and decided to attend Johns Hopkins, one of the best medical education programs in the world. I've been to Las Vegas with a large group of some of my oldest and best friends. I've learned new songs on the guitar and piano, written songs, and recorded some of them. I've spent time in 5 continents: North America, South America, Europe, Asia, and Africa. I helped build a school in the village of Seral, in the middle of the Sahel Desert of rural Senegal. I've lived in Spain with an amazing family for two months and improved my Spanish proficiency dramatically. I've partied at one of Spain's biggest annual festivals, Las Fallas of Valencia, not to mention on the beach in some of Barcelona's ritziest clubs. I've been to the world's greatest churches: La Sagrada Familia, St. Peter's Basilica, the Notre Dame, the Sacre-Coeur, the Hagia Sofia, the Duomo of Florence... I've straddled Europe and Asia on the Bosphorus Straight and ridden in an overnight train through Bulgaria. I've kissed in alleyways and on bridges. I've drank Guinness from the source in Dublin, rode city bikes around the iconic sights of London and Paris, simultaneously played tag and drank Scotch in the Scottish Highlands, and made pizza under the guidance of an Italian pizza master at his pizzeria. I've climbed on thousand year old forts and sang from a minaret. I've witnessed one of the most famous annual one day bike races firsthand in Belgium among the sport's most passionate fans. I've snuck in to an abandoned hospital in Berlin with a cute girl, and walked through the Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria. I've been to a three day electronic music festival in the redwood forests of northern California. I've seen the Eiffel Tower and the Mona Lisa, the Statue of David and the Rosetta Stone, the Sistine Chapel and Moses's staff. I've fallen in and out of love, sometimes quickly, other times slowly. I've been on hikes in day and night and wandered around multimillion-dollar properties. I've met and caught up with old friends everywhere: York, St. Andrews, Dublin, Paris, Barcelona, Zurich, New York, Boston, San Diego, Los Angeles, and even at home in Sonoma County. I've done a million other wonderful, notable things, and for this I am truly lucky.

Every day we are faced with hundreds, even thousands of decisions, all of which lead to actions. We decide what we do and don't do, and we act. Then, at the end of the year or at a transition point we try to make sense of passing time. Sense may not always be the result of this revelry - but if you can't stop grinning when you reminisce about the recent past, you must have done something right. 

Travel is not a vacation. It is a wholly exhausting, fascinating, immersive, intellectual, and explorative experience. And it is not easy. But often the hardest step is booking the initial trans-Atlantic flight to another continent. So many people say "I want to travel the world... someday," or "One of these days I'll go backpack Europe." Well I'll tell you what folks, that attitude won't get you farther then your local bar. Let's just say you mustered up the courage to finally buy that plane ticket - now you have the formidable challenge of planning your trip. That is where Eurotrip Tips comes in to play. I've been through it all, and here is my advice. 

When to go: 

The best time to go to Europe is late summer through autumn, and the next best time is spring through early summer. Winter can be nice, especially in some places around Christmas time, but many people will be on holiday as well and the weather may give you hell. As for summer, it is everyone's favorite season, and when most people take vacations. Europe is overcrowded with tourists during the summer months and it makes everything more difficult and less enjoyable: sightseeing turns into sheep herding, accommodation prices skyrocket and beds become increasingly scarce, beautiful beaches and quaint cities become overrun with maniacal tourists. The advantages to summer are that many festivals and holidays fall during the summer months, and that if you like to party these are probably the best months of the year to #yolo in Europe. The nice thing about starting your trip in late summer or ending it in early summer is that you can still squeeze in huge summer events like Bavaria's Oktoberfest or England's Isle of Wight Festival. 

How long, and the infamous Schengen visa problem: 

The answer to this question often depends on your life situation. Maybe you have a gap year in school (like I did) or you just finished school. Or you're taking a leave of absence from work, or you're in a transition period. If you find yourself in one of these life situations, take advantage of it. It is so easy to become locked in to whatever you are doing and never get the chance to go on a long trip. If you are locked in, but you hate it, seriously consider making a change and going on a long trip during the transition (e.g. just quit your shitty job and go, you'll be able to find another job when you return).

Regardless of these constraints, my perfect trip is anywhere from 2-6 months. Beyond 6 months and you start to go a little crazy and forget what a normal lifestyle is like (which can work if you somehow swing your career in that direction). Shorter than 2 months and you just don't have enough time.

That being said, most non-EU passport holders cannot remain in the "Schengen Zone" for more than 90 days in a 6 month period. So if you planned to backpack in Western Europe for 4 months straight, you can't legally do that. It is a terrible law and it forced me to rearrange my initial itinerary and to carefully plan my trip. There aren't very many (legal) ways around it though. You can obtain a visa, which can be virtually impossible in some cases. Student visas are usually easiest to obtain, and some countries even have au pair visas. You could marry a European and try to get dual-citizenship. That's all I have... But, you can still travel to the UK and to most countries in Eastern Europe, since they are outside the Schengen Zone. Hurry up though, since this could change dramatically in the next decade as many Eastern European nations join the European Union.

One last note on the infamous Schengen rules: I was technically a few days over the 90 day limit. I left Italy for Senegal and entered Spain a week later and my passport was never checked by immigration officers - I was stamped right through. For one, my 90 days in the Schengen Zone were broken up by numerous visits outside the Zone, and this made it so it would take a good deal of time to figure out how many days I was actually in the zone. It is lot easier to see if you've overextended your stay when you've been in violation the entire time. Secondly, violating the immigration rules is a gamble. Not getting caught is largely dependent on what country you are entering or leaving, and furthermore on how much of a stickler the immigration officer is on that day. I do not condone overstaying the Schengen visa, because it can result in a huge fine and travel problems down the line, but from my experience it does seem like small violations are easily overlooked (this could be very different in notoriously scrupulous and law-abiding countries like Switzerland or Sweden!)

Planning itineraries:

From the United States, fly in to Western Europe (London, Lisbon, Reykjavik, and Madrid seem to be the cheaper options at the moment). Then work your way east. Or you could do the opposite - east to west.

Determine which countries and sites you must see. This is a challenge but try, realizing there is always more to see and you can't do it all. Figure out what type of route makes sense after you've determined must sees, revising and adding as you plan your route. Identify the dates of any major festivals or events you would like to be present at, and work your travel dates around these.

Once a month, spend at least a few days recharging somewhere - book a cabana on an island, reserve an Airbnb house in the countryside, just relax somewhere so you don't get completely burnt out. Trust me, you'll feel it when you need this.

Leave some flexibility in your itinerary in case you want to stay longer in a place or explore something nearby, but book the major legs of your itinerary. It will save you tons of money. For example, I booked an EasyJet flight from Amsterdam to Berlin and a train from Berlin to Munich over a month in advance, and it saved me almost 200 euros. 

Don't spend less than 4 days in major cities, and less than 2 in minor ones. The definition of major and minor depends largely on you, although it is safe to say some cities are irrefutably major (London, Paris, Amsterdam, Barcelona, Berlin...) Try to spend more time if you can. You might see a lot of places if you move to a new place every 2 days, but you will be hardly be experiencing them. The less you move around, the less you see (technically), but the more you get to enjoy the place you are in at that moment. Also, a magical thing happens once you've surpassed the week mark in one place. You've seen all the major sights, and now you can finally relax a little and dig a little deeper in to the culture and the hidden gems. 

Don't just visit cities! It is difficult and requires more research to plan non-metropolis stops in Europe, but after a few weeks of urban giants, time in the countryside or in a small coastal village is amazing. Huge cities wear you down, especially when you are traveling. 

Planning an itinerary is very personal. What is your style? Do you like to have everything meticulously planned, or do you like to "wing-it" and be spontaneous? Being totally spontaneous on a long and complex trip amounts to wasting your time missing things you could be seeing, so even if this is your style be sure to force yourself to do some basic planning to make the most of your short time in a place. What kinds of things do you like to see? To do? What cultures and countries are you more drawn to? What is your budget? ($$$$Scandinavia>$$$$Swizterland>$$$London>$$$Amsterdam>$$$Paris>$$Barcelona>$Split>$Sofia...) 

Finally, plan not what you will see, but what you will do. After a month on the road, sightseeing gets surprisingly mundane. Yes, many places will have a number of sights that cannot be missed. I actually was too much of a neurotic sightseer, and I sometimes drove myself to utter exhaustion, especially the first few days in a big, new city, just to see things when I wasn't even really enjoying it. So think about what you will DO wherever you go. 

Saving money: 

There are many, many clever ways to save money on a Eurotrip. Some require discipline. Some require research and know-how (which you are working on now by reading this post!). Some require planning in advance. Here are my top money-saving tips:

Transportation: Explore a variety of transportation options. Budget airlines and trains are your best bet. RyanAir and EasyJet are the most popular and extensive budget airlines in Europe, and are an excellent option for longer travel legs, especially if you book early. Also, most countries in Europe now have great online railway websites, where you can book tickets in advance. Reserving a specific train ticket a few weeks in advance can cut your ticket price to a quarter of what you will pay the day of. This is one reason why I DON'T suggest a rail pass. The passes cost  hundreds of dollars and they are severely limiting. You probably won't save money unless you plan your entire trip around effectively using the rail pass and navigating all the red tape that comes with them. Don't forget to look into other less common options as well. You can hop on a carpool by finding rides on websites like Karzoo and Carpooling. Sometimes buses are a cheaper option than trains. Ferries can be useful around the Mediterranean. I took one from Croatia to Italy. 

Accommodation: I stayed mostly in hostels, which are available almost everywhere in Europe. I use HostelWorld to make hostel reservations in advance. In general, earlier booking equals better accommodation, more choices, and often cheaper prices. Scrambling to find a bed can be stressful, and it is judicious to avoid this with earlier booking. Weekends in big cities, especially around certain dates, can be a nightmare. It is common for a 12 euro dorm bed in a hostel to cost upwards of 50 or 60 euros on a Friday or Saturday! When this happened, I relied on Airbnb, a website where people list beds or apartments for temporary rent, often at comparable or cheaper prices then hostels. Airbnb is a great alternative to hostels. The experience is entirely different: You have your own bed. You aren't in a dorm room. The social and cultural aspect is hugely different. You usually get to stay with a local and see how they live. For these reasons and some others, I often split my time between hostels and Airbnb. If you aren't traveling alone, or you meet some people along the way, splitting an Airbnb house can be a perfect way to arrange very nice accommodation at a budget price. Finally, there is the Couchsurfing community. You make a profile, request hosts in different cities, and people agree to host you for free. I attempted to do this but found it very difficult to find hosts. In the end, I gave it up. But if you can swing it, nothing beats a free bed. 

Food: This is the expense that depends drastically on your choices, discipline, and lifestyle. You pay whatever you can get for transportation and accommodation, but with food comes a constant struggle to stay on budget. Minimize food spending however you can stomach. Cook when your hostel or apartment has a kitchen. Buy meals at supermarkets and fast food joints. Bring cheap snacks with you during the day. Book hostels with free breakfasts. Avoid overpriced tourist restaurants, and when you break down and need to splurge on some amazing food (which you should do as much as your budget reasonably allows you, since it is Europe after all), make sure it will be worth it before you commit. How to do this? Check if the place has been written up in a travel magazine or newspaper. Does it have favorable reviews on Trip Advisor and Yelp? 

Banking: Follow currency rates. When I left for Europe, the Euro was weak and the US Dollar was strong. I would have saved some money if I had exchanged a large sum on money from US Dollars to Euros right before I left, but instead I watched the exchange rate steadily rise in favor of the Euro. Before you leave, open a free checking account with a bank that provides a free global ATM card. I used Fidelity, and they provided an ATM card that reimburses all ATM fees anywhere in the world. Since you can get charged $5 per withdrawal or more, this can result in huge savings. If you have good credit, you should also consider applying for a travel credit card, which will give you great cash back or points rewards for all travel spending. 

Sightseeing: Skip expensive organized tours - do it yourself! You'll enjoy yourself more, have more flexibility, and spend less. Yes, it takes more research and planning, and in a few cases this isn't possible or applicable. In general though, I believe the DIY route is the way to go. Also keep track of how much you pay for museum and sightseeing entrance fees. These add up like crazy, and you will have to prioritize what you want to see so that you don't burn all your money on this fees. If you are able to get a student or youth discount card, definitely do it, but don't expect it to help too much - most of the youth and student discounts only apply to EU citizens. 

Using Apps and the Internet: 

There is a vast variety of websites and applications that tailor to the traveler. Here are the ones I use most:

Skyscanner.com - For flight searches. Very comprehensive search engine.

Kayak.com - Also for flight searches. Comprehensive search engine with lots of control for multi-trip itineraries, calendar price checks, and more. 

Wikitravel.com - Cool crowd-sourced travel guide. I use it to research places before I go, supplementing my Lonely Planet guidebook. 

TimeOut - Individual websites made for big cities. Tells you what's on this week and has lots of great locally-tailored reviews. 

Matador Network - My favorite travel blogging website. Lots of interesting information on everything travel, tailored towards a younger crowd.

Trip Advisor - Both the application and the website offer the best reviews of tours, restaurants, and more. Very reliable for comparing what to do or where to eat. You can also download "City Guides" on your phone with the app, and access maps and other info offline, which is super helpful when you don't have cell coverage or wifi. 

Yelp - Comparable to Trip Advisor, but less helpful when you are abroad since it isn't used as much in Europe. 

WeHostels - Great app for searching for hostel accommodation. 

Airbnb - The phone version of the Airbnb site works very well. 

BeanHunter - Yelp for third wave coffee. 

Since everyone will inevitably and understandable ask me how my trip was, I'm going to try to do justice to that question, since it is essentially an impossible question that I cannot answer, particularly in a normal conversation. Moreover, once I start talking about my travels I run the risk of annoying the hell out of you. 

I have traced out my itinerary on the map below, color coded to include modes of transport used (blue = plane, green = train, red = bus/car). If you are planning you're own eurotrip, you may find this helpful and could even use it as a blueprint. I felt it was a very comprehensive first pass of Europe, and while there are always many more places to see, this route served me well and left me with no regrets. (For advice on planning a eurotrip and saving money, see the upcoming post: Eurotrip Tips).  

San Francisco -> London -> York -> Madrid (2 month hub, during which I visited Valencia, Toledo, and Segovia) -> Barcelona -> Madrid -> Paris -> Madrid -> Brussels -> Gent -> Brugge -> Amsterdam -> The Hague -> Amsterdam -> Berlin -> Munich -> Füssen -> Munich -> Zurich -> Lucern -> Zurich -> Istanbul -> Sofia -> Skopje -> Kotor -> Dubrovnik -> Mostar -> Split -> Hvar -> Split -> Ancona -> Florence -> Rome -> Tuscany (Chianti, Sienna, etc.) -> Rome -> Dakar -> Madrid -> Dublin -> Edinburgh -> St. Andrews -> Scottish Highlands -> Edinburgh -> London -> Los Angeles -> San Francisco

When you ask me, "how was your trip?" I'll say "It was amazing!" That's all I have for you. What else do you want me to say? My travels were a seemingly endless collection of moments in time, fragments that became memories, beautiful, striking, awe-inspiring. If you want more then "It was amazing!" here is my counter query: "Is there a place that I went that you are especially curious about or intrigued by?" Name that place and I'll tell you a story I have from there. It is true a trip is one, cohesive story - a one thousand page memoir. You're more interested in hearing what a single day or a moment or an event was like. Here are just a few highly abbreviated samples to whet your appetite:

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Hvar, Croatia: I rented a motorized Piaggo scooter one morning. I sped off to explore the gorgeous island, which pokes out of the azure Adriatic Sea. I stopped along the way on a cliffside overlooking a dramatic bay. There was a small stone hut there with a Catholic altar inside. Attempting to dismount the scooter as if I was on a bicycle, my leg hit the storage trunk behind me and pulled the scooter down until the scooter toppled down over me, and my body hit the gravel with a hard thump. Ouch. I continued onward to Hvar Town and explored what is the largest village on the island. On my way back to Jelsa I stopped on the road above a picturesque secluded cove. I could see three girls in bikinis swimming in the shallow water far down below. I hiked down, then had trouble getting through the brush to the beach. I just walked right through it because I couldn't find the trail and emerged magically on the pebbly beach. Once there, I greeted the beautiful group of ladies. We made small talk. They were tall, tan, and Chilean. 

Hofbrauhaus, Munich, Germany: It was Saturday night in Munich, and what better way to celebrate then drink a liter of Bavarian lager in the most famous beer hall in the world? I entered Hofbrauhaus alone, intrigued by the drunken chaos and traditional Bavarian band and drinking songs. Soon I became a little uncomfortable, very aware of my status as a lone ranger among massive groups of friends. After 20 minutes wandering the crowded beer hall, I still couldn't find a place to sit. Finally, I saw an open seat at a large table filled with a friendly looking group. I asked to sit down and they graciously invited me. They were an international group that had met during an exchange in Australia: a Mexican, some Austrians, some Germans, and some Swiss. They were happy, funny, and welcoming. I felt lucky. I quickly ordered a liter mug (the standard size in Germany, of course) and attempted to catch up in inebriation to my newfound friends. We finished dinner, and I decided to join them for the night. We walked to the Augustiner-Brau beer hall and drank more beer (of course!). I felt so lucky to have stumbled on this great, international group! When I finally left to go back to my Airbnb apartment, I grabbed a few slices of pizza and headed for the subway. As I waited for the train, a drunk Pervuian-German girl, accompanied by her caretaker (or guardian, not so sure?) stumbled and said something to me in German, then proceeded to try and take my pizza. I talked to her in Spanish. Her guardian spoke some English and we conversed, while the childish drunken girl started flirting with me. I gave her a slice of pizza. It was one of the strangest interactions I had on my entire trip, and concluded what turned out to be a very memorable Saturday night. 

Kotor, Montenegro: The Old Town Kotor Hostel (which I highly recommend for it's location and coziness if you ever find yourself there) has a foldable, electric bicycle that is available for rent for guests. I decided to rent the bike for a day and cycle around the Bay of Kotor, which is amazingly shaped and phenomenally beautiful (Google it). I stopped at a waterfall on the side of the road. I had a coffee and a crepe on a dock on the lake in the next village. It was fun and liberating. I yelled "opa, opa!" to myself as I sped down hills and around curves. Eventually, the electric motor, which was supposed to recharge through pedaling, started to die. Without the motor, the minibike was very difficult to pedal. I took a ferry across to the other side of the bay to avoid backtracking, and soon it began to pour. It rained on and off during my entire stay in Montenegro, but when it was sunny when I left in the morning. Then, not only did the motor stop working but the chain would not staying on. So there I was, in the rain, pedaling this neon green minibike and stopping to put the chain back on every 20 seconds. I stopped in front of a garage of a house under construction, and the two builders saw me down below. They invited me up to the balcony. I abided. We spoke in the way that people who don't speak the same language speak, miming things, trying to understand. He opened a bottle of Croatian white wine, and we all drank a glass, and the two builders had cigarettes as the rain continued down. When the downpour started to slow 30 minutes later, I said thank you and goodbye, and continued on back to the village of Kotor. At the point, I resolved to walk the bike all the way back in the drizzle, which took 3 times as long as it would have with the bike working. It was a great adventure. 

Sultanahmet, Istanbul, Turkey: After almost a week in Istanbul, a chaotic sprawling, East meets West metropolis, I was mentally preparing for the next leg of my journey, an overnight train ride to Sofia, Bulgaria. I had been planning to try a famous Turkish bath experience before I left, but kept dithering. There are famous, expensive hamamıs (hammams), as they are called, but since I was on a budget and wanted a more authentic experience, I finally settled on Kadirga Hamami in Sultanahmet. Walking in to the place, I was apprehensive as it looked a bit run down and was full of middle aged, fat, hairy Turkish men. They spoke virtually no English, but kindly beckoned me in to my own personal changing room. I stripped and wrapped myself with a thin towel, and was escorted to the sauna. It was the hottest sauna I've ever been in. I started getting light headed and had to leave and get water. Next I lied down on the göbek taşi, a large, flat, heated marble stone and relaxed, still feeling slightly uncomfortable from the burning sauna. Finally, one of the large, hairy Turkish men came in and scrubbed me down, removing layers of dead skin that I didn't know were even there. Then I was soaped up and finally rinsed with refreshing cold water. While it wasn't the most comfortable experience at times, it was relaxing and I enjoyed it in the end. I felt accomplished, clean, and rejuvenated after taking part in a 600 year old Ottoman tradition.

Dublin, Ireland: I have said it before, but one of the worst things about traveling is meeting amazing people and only getting to spend a few days with them. Accordingly, I felt lucky to be able to spend a little more time with a person who I immediately clicked with when I met her and her traveling companion in Berlin. As it turned out, my friend had some old family friends from Dublin. We were hanging out, on our way to the Guinness Storehouse and Factory as she explained that she had been invited to have dinner with the family at their house. "They said I could bring someone along. Please come keep me company?!" How could I refuse? The mother, who was incredibly kind and exuberantly enthusiastic picked us up and drove us to their home. The house was beautiful. I discover the father is an OB/GYN at the National Maternity Hospital. They brought out all kinds of appetizers and drinks. There was hummus and falafel and caprese salad. They barbecued lamb burgers and chicken skewers and we feasted outside under heaters, praying that the temperamental Irish weather would cooperate. Given that I was on a tight budget, this was the best meal I had in a long while. Not only that, it was a rare chance to peek in to the life of an upper class Irish family and to learn about Irish culture. It was a memorable, happenstance evening that I completely and unexpectedly fell into. It happens a lot in travel - you meet someone, they have this connection or know about that event, and all of a sudden you have a plan and you are at a mansion having a luxurious dinner or on a rooftop dancing and drinking a mojito or exploring a creepy abandoned hospital. The possibilities are endless really. 

Barceloneta, Spain: In Barcelona, I stayed at a hostel in Gracia, part of the well-known Sant Jordi chain. On Saturday nights, they organize nightlife events where guests from all six of their Barcelona hostels meet at one bar. For a solo traveler, this is the equivalent of social gold. I joined the event and traveled with the group to a small bar. From there, the large crowd paraded to Barceloneta, the beach community known for its sunshine and surfing by day and its world-renown beachside nightclubs by night. The hostel staff led us to the front door of one of the chic nightclubs, and the whole Sant Jordi group bypassed the queue and did not have to pay a cover charge. As we descended the stairs to a huge underground dance floor, I watched the spectacle unfolding in front of my eyes with disbelief. Then, as soon as I got off the stairs and on to the floor, I looked up and saw a familiar face. I couldn't believe it. I reached out and grabbed her shoulder, mouth agape "What?! What are you doing here?" It was the sister of a good high school friend. What are the odds? We had met a few times but didn't know each other well. She was a tall, blonde, beautiful sorority girl, studying abroad in Florence and in Barcelona with some friends for the weekend. Travel long enough, and chance encounters with acquaintances are inevitable. Coincidence, or something else? Who can say. 

Tuscany, Italy: I was in the backseat as I rode with my parents in a small rental car through the gorgeous hillsides of Tuscany. We came to a traffic circle and a long train of red Ferraris were going round, once, twice, three times. Fearless, my mom entered the circle, and we excited with the Ferraris. Somehow we were the only non-Ferrari in a train of over twenty of them, speeding along the windy country roads. We kept up for about five minutes until an organizer on a Ducati motorbike forced us out of the train. Later, we made a stop at an old Tuscan estate and winery. As we walked up to the winery, we looked over and saw a handsome, well-dressed Italian man galloping on a horse through the vineyard. We all burst out laughing. One ridiculous cliche after another! Later, we made pizza at an old pizzeria under the guidance of the owner and "pizza master" who trains the best chefs in Italy how to perfect pizza. We traveled onward to the Ruffino Winery Estate through a special arrangement with my mother's company. The gorgeous mansion was perched on a hilltop overlooking the city of Florence. I had a glass of grappa and many glasses of wine. Our group had a cooking class, and we all worked together to prepare dinner. It was a heavenly, outrageous feast. Lardo wrapped shrimp. Bruschetta. Stewed rooster. Handmade ravioli. Tiramisu. Lots of wine. How did I get here? Is this real? Can life be like this? Yes it can. 

Segovia, Spain: In Madrid I lived with a host family, and my host mother's parents live in Segovia. We drove there through olive groves and pastures on a Saturday on my last weekend in Spain. The town is superbly picturesque. Perched on a hilltop, and full of many dazzling buildings, I fell in love immediately. There is the Alcázar, one of the castle's that inspired Walt Disney's Cinderella Castle, the Cathedral, a late gothic masterpiece, and the beautiful ancient Roman Aqueduct that dominates the scene of the downtown area. My host mother gave me a tour of her former town. We had a beer and a pork mouth appetizer at a typical Spanish bar. After walking around the amazing town, we went up to her parent's apartment. We sat down for a late, large Spanish style lunch and I looked left out the window. The aqueduct, one of the best preserved ancient monuments in Spain, was literally right there, just outside the window. What a great place for an apartment! The father brought in a huge plate of paella. We feasted and drank wine. For dessert we had pastel ponche segioviano, a cake typical of this small town. It is one of the most unique, best cakes I've ever tasted. My host father told me he likes it so much that he choose it as the cake for their wedding. The boys, my new little brothers, laughed and played as we talked over dessert. This was a normal weekend afternoon in Spain. Normal? Americans have a lot to learn. 

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One week ago I returned home to the California wine country after more than four and a half months of traveling. I traveled to seventeen countries, all but one in Europe. With every day came new and notable experiences, jaw-dropping sights and monuments, new friends, exciting foods, and many moments that could be effortlessly fashioned into great short stories. It was a physical, sensory, and psychological overload, in the best sense possible, and with so much coming at me in such a short time it was nearly impossible to continue writing about my experiences, moreover to even mentally process everything I was seeing and doing! 

Despite my demanding itinerary, I did take notes along the way whenever I felt compelled, often using the Notes app on my iPhone to get the job done, as I found that most convenient. I have distilled the many things I learned throughout my months in Europe. I hesitate to use the word "abroad" when describing my travels because the notion that one place is domestic and another abroad seems somewhat arbitrary and contrived. This is especially true after calling so many different countries home, because in a way, home is wherever you are. 

In school, you learn from teachers and textbooks. In travel, you learn from the world. Here are my lessons learned: 

People are people, wherever you go. Humanity is one, and it is so obvious once you've seen the world.

You want to learn about world affairs, culture, politics, geography, or history? Travel the world. There is no better way. 

Differences in appearance, language, culture, and religion are small compared to our shared humanity, our persistent similarities. 

Humanity is all at once imaginative, creative, resourceful, cruel, and artistic. When a person or a group of people work towards a goal, an artistic or architectural achievement, or a movement, the results can be absolutely astonishing. This reality becomes so beautifully tangible after only a short time traveling from country to country and visiting sight after sight. 

Society is unequal everywhere, although the degree of inequality depends on the place. However, it appears that disheartening inequality is the rule rather than the exception.

Borders are artificial and abrupt, while cultures are fluid (this brings back the false notion of "abroad"). Customs and notions change on a progressive gradient, much different from the sharp divides of borders. I can think of many examples, particularly in the very condensed, still-changing borders in Europe. That being said, the East-West cultural difference is in fact quite dramatic and infinitely interesting. For this reason, I find traveling in Asia more shocking, strange, and challenging when compared to Europe (although this does not mean I necessarily prefer one continent over the other).

English is the most global language. When an international group of people from all over the world wish to speak to each other, the language used will almost always be English. 

Coffee and beer are ubiquitous, although some regions prefer tea to coffee, and the local alcoholic beverage (wine, vodka, fermented what-have-you...) to beer. 

I do not have a favorite place I have visited. End of story. If I had to choose a placed to live anywhere in the world, I would go insane trying to make a decision. 

Traveling is not cheap, especially in some parts of the world (e.g. Europe!). If you are a young person, not finished with school or still without a salaried job, you will probably blow your life savings. But there is no better way to spend those savings then to see the world. Trust me, you'll get more out of it then you will a new MacBook, some designer jeans, and a couple nice dinners at the Cheesecake Factory. Additionally, there are lots of tricks to saving money, especially if you are organized and make reservations in advance. (For tips on saving money, see What I've Learned 2.0: How to plan a big trip on a small budget).  

There are pros and cons to traveling solo. I choose to travel alone, mostly because no close friends who I would like to travel with were willing or able to join me. Traveling independently has its ups and downs. The worst part are the periods of intense loneliness that are hard to avoid as a lone traveler, especially if you aren't infinitely energetic and outgoing. The best part is the unrestrained, absolute freedom and flexibility you have on your own. After my experience, my ideal travel setup goes something like this: Travel with one close friend, but for every 3 weeks you travel together, you must spend at least one week traveling separately. 

People come and go in life. Sometimes they stay for a decade, other times for only a day. You will occasionally meet people that you click with effortlessly and feel like you've known for much longer. These people are the "keepers," and it is important to recognize when the click happens for this reason. Saying goodbye to them after a painfully abbreviated time together is one of the worst realities of travel. This is why I sometimes describe traveling as life accelerated: the crazy experiences and sights, the friendships and flings and mistakes, they are always a part of life, but they happen at a much greater frequency on the road. 

It's a small world. It's a big world. It's a flat world: It's a small world because anywhere in the world you are bound to meet people who have connections with you: people from your hometown, people who went to the same university, people who share a mutual friend. It is these connections that are the foundation of new friendships. It's a big world because when you travel the globe you begin to understand how much land, features, cities, and cultures exist, and then the world feels overwhelmingly and amazingly large. This is accentuated by overland travel, which helps the traveller appreciate time and distance. Yet, the world is flat, because airplane travel, telecommunications, the Internet, and more have made it so the world is more interconnected than ever before. Of course, while this interconnectedness is wonderful, there are many downsides and new technologies should be used appropriately and with careful consideration. 

Life is wonderful. The world is massive, amazing, incredible, and full of beautiful people. The possibilities are endless - the sky is the limit. Sure, they are all clichés, but they become so very palpable after some time wandering the globe. 

It is my belief that everyone should leave their home country and see different parts of the world. It should be part of the "coming-of-age curriculum," because travel is an unmatchable classroom that opens the mind, challenges preconceptions, inspires creativity, refreshes, matures, and reinvigorates. I urge you, don't be one of those people that say "I wish I could have, would have, backpacked Europe," or "I've always wanted to go there but I guess I just never got around to it," or my personal favorite "You're so lucky you got to do that." No, I'm not lucky. Luck had nothing to do with it. I was clear with my goals and determined to do what I wanted. I worked and I saved money. I made plans and did not wait for anybody. Then I went, and I lived my dream. Just do it. 

"In photography there is a reality so subtle that it becomes more real than reality."

The act of travel is often idealized, portrayed as a perfect escape, a dream, a life free of worry, responsibility, full of new sights, sounds, people, places, experiences. It is all these things. But it is not all butterflies and rainbows. There are many difficulties. Long hours of travel. Frequent movement. Extreme exhaustion and intense discomfort. Lack of a place to call home. The single worst thing about traveling: letting go. 

You have to let go of places you love. Even worse than that, you have to unwillingly, agonizingly let go of people you have come to love, sometimes in only a matter of hours or days in the distorted, accelerated time of travel. Many people will come and go throughout your life, but it happens at an unbearable rate on the road. When your moving around so much in a foreign place, you come in contact with more of these individuals than normal. It is random, and it is fate. I believe these two qualities are somehow, paradoxically linked.

Every so often you meet someone you just click with, effortlessly, a lock and key connection that wasn't meant to be transient. They come. You have them for a few days, or a week if you're lucky. Then they are gone. Welcome to the dark side of life, love, and travel. 

Travel time is distorted, and it screws with your perception and emotions. In this sometimes stretched, sometimes compressed travel time zone, it is best to let go. Accept the ephemerality of time. 

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/04/travel/solo-in-paris.html?src=me&ref=general

Last week I attempted to get a vaccination in Istanbul. I will be traveling to Senegal in a few weeks, and I still have not received the "highly recommended" injection that will stimulate an immunity against yellow fever. This preventive measure is apparently a big deal, because the government in Senegal actually requires proof of yellow fever vaccination for anyone traveling from a country with risk of yellow fever. Even though the U.S. is not one of these countries, I'd rather not leave Africa carrying a nasty virus.

My attempt started at the Alman Hastanesi (German Hospital), which I choose to try first for its proximity to my hostel. I walked right in to one of the buildings and asked about getting a vaccination. The two nurses I met spoke limited English, but directed me onwards to Şişli Etfal Hastanesi, a public hospital where I could "get injection." Armed with the necessary Turkish phrase, "sarıhumma aşı," translation: yellow fever vaccine, I walked half an hour north in the drizzling rain to the next hospital.

When I arrived, I was met with a familiar scene, but in an unfamiliar situation. The large public hospital looked similar to what I have seen in developing countries such as Peru - chaotic, overcrowded, disorganized, and with more queues than a summer day at Disneyland. However, this time I was not a volunteer or an observer, but a patient seeking a quick and simple injection. 

Everything was in Turkish, and few people spoke English. After roaming around aimlessly for a while, I first spoke to a young doctor in a white coat. He spoke some English and pointed me to a department nearby, which in fact did not help me. After this, I strained to make sense of the Turkish signs. The key moment was when I saw the word enfeksiyon. Infection. Aha! Luckily medical words are often well preserved across languages, and a few terms still made sense. I found the infectious disease department. I waited in line. I tried one check-in desk, and then was pointed to another. I waited in line. Finally, I spoke to the clerical worker who was checking patients in to the infectious disease department. She was confused. Why was I speaking English? Where was I from? What did I want? I just smiled and said "sarıhumma aşı," making a gesture as if giving myself a shot. She took my ID and then asked a nurse passing by if they had the vaccine. The nurse didn't know. She gestured me to follow her and we walked right up to the patient room, currently occupied by doctor and patient. She knocked vigorously. A minute later, the doctor came out, and when probed about the vaccine she gave a very simple answer to my ongoing predicament: "We don't have that." I made it all the way to the infectious disease doctor in a huge Turkish public hospital, and they didn't have it. Come on now! I'm sure plenty of people from Istanbul travel to regions with yellow fever risk. 

I resolved to try once more, at the Amerikan Hastanesi, after a heavily caffeinated Turkish coffee. Definitely the nicest of the bunch, this place looked promising. The receptionist at the information desk spoke English (as she should in the American Hospital) and directed me to the ER Department (for a vaccine? Not really an emergency...) I explained to a nurse what I needed. Ten minutes later, a doctor finally approached. "Oh, we don't have that. You need to go to Şişli Etfal Hastanesi. It is close by." Go to Hell. 

Ultimately, my attempt to get the vaccine failed miserably. I will have to try again once I leave Eastern Europe and enter Italy. Yet, this experience was telling about the character of Istanbul. It is a developed city, but it often behaves as an undeveloped one. There is a Ritz-Carlton and a well-connected public transportation line, including the second oldest subterranean urban rail line in the world and a multitude of ferries, but there is also chaos, beggars, crowds, and disorganized hospitals. In terms of cost, Istanbul is priced similarly to Madrid. It isn't as expensive as London or Paris, but it is by no means cheap either. But this felt strange to me given the feel of the city. It was significantly cheaper to buy a döner kebap in Berlin than in Istanbul! There is huge inequality, like in many large cities, especially developing ones.