Table for one, please.
Traveling alone is amazing. Maybe it isn't for everyone, as it does require a significant amount of effort, but it certainly is for me. And hopefully revealing this will pre-empt any future questions from concerned family about whether I am lonely ;) While I loved spending time with friends and family in London and then in Paris and Switzerland, it's really just a very different type of trip when you are completely on your own. It is truly a vacation. In some ways, it is much more relaxing, and of course in some ways it is more much more challenging; But my favorite part has been being able to get away from it ALL which is sometimes hard to do when you are away with people from your daily life. There is nothing and no one to remind you of your "real life" back home (besides yourself and of course, your iPhone, which I have begun to have a love-hate relationship with). And while all the alone time does inevitably force some deep introspection (and a LOT of it, especially if you are a Scorpio like me), personally, I've found that it is much easier to live in the moment and not get stuck in the "woulda-coulda-shoulda" wheel of regret that sometimes happens during self-reflection and when you are trying to figure out your life. Instead, at least for me, travelling alone makes me more focused on what I am seeing, who I am talking to, how I will get from point A to point B, etc. and not about whether quitting my job was the right thing to do, what I will do when I get back, if someone just text messaged me, etc. At any given point throughout the day, at least 4 out of your 5 senses are stimulated. The refreshing sea breeze, the crashing waves on the shore, the intricate foreign languages being spoken all around, the bright blue cloudless sky, the taste of fresh red tomatoes with pure olive oil...it's just impossible to not sit and enjoy the current moment. I am relieved I ended up bringing my camera - despite it being a pain to carry around - because it allows me to capture the moments I want to remember and share. It's me saying: I want to freeze this moment, what I am seeing, what I am experiencing, and I want to be able to share it with others when I can. I've also been able to meet so many different, interesting characters along the way; many of whom I probably would never have struck up a conversation had I been with someone else.
Budget to pee.
I knew we were spoiled in America, but didn't realize it in this sense...In many European countries, you must pay to use public facilities. I loaded my purse with packs of tissues in case they didn't have toilet paper (which I do anyways in the US) but didn't realize I constantly needed to have change on me - 1 or 2 pounds, euros, or francs - to actually be allowed to pee. I have found, however, that with a big smile and request in the native language, some restaurants and cafes will happilly let you use their WC, free of charge.
Thoughts on Grub and Libations.
When on the island of Crete in Greece, do not order dessert. You will get a piece of cake no matter what AND a shot of Ouzo...even if you don't ask. (And no, it's not because I'm alone and they pity me...they literally do that for every diner I've seen. It's great.)
Skim milk sucks. I've found that Europeans don't even know what it is most of the time (unless you go to a Starbucks) and I'm actually thankful for that. Cappuccinos and lattes taste better with REAL milk. And they serve much smaller portions (less than a 'tall' at Starbucks) so it doesn't feel heavy. I still like my sweetener, though...which they do have and I've learned how to say in Greek.
There are places in Europe where a glass of wine in cheaper than a bottle of water. Enough said. Maybe they price it knowing you will likely have to pay again to use the restroom later.
Etiquette - let the native lead.
Especially when it comes to the number of cheek kisses when greeting or saying goodbye to someone. One in London, two in Paris, three in Switzerland (most of the time), two in Greece. So, my sister and I went to the oldest vegetarian restaurant in Europe (Hitl), and upon sitting down, the two guys at the neighboring table insisted we join them and had the waiter move our things. I was reluctant (just tired and hungry), but my sister encouraged that we should...why not, buggy?! So we did. And then it turned into a two-on-one-date (the two guys with me flying solo) when Lindsay's friend arrived and they started to catch up in full girl fashion. Anyway, they turned out to be very nice guys and I enjoyed the playful, often sarcastic conversation we had for an hour (one apparently was a Dolphin Trainer at the Zurich zoo, and one was a Dolci and Gabanna underwear model....they were clearly bankers but could tell they felt like playing around...). At the end, we exchanged goodbyes and all that good stuff, and started the cheek kissing exchange. Feeling confident I finally figured out the proper Swiss etiquette in this sense, I went in for the third and final kiss to the underwear model. But he had stopped at two. I don't know why. We ended up in this awkward position where he was standing up straight again but I was bee-lining for his lips (would have been his cheek had he been doing the normal turn of the head!). We laughed it off and Lindsay of course had a hayday with that...but from now on, I've decided to be passive and let whoever lives there dictate the number of kisses. Or maybe ask them ahead of time? Is that weird?
Don't go to Europe to expecting to escape America.
Be prepared to see gorgeous, intricate, ancient sites across Europe, built thousands of years ago by bare hand. These are the things your history teacher raved about in class and that you saw in textbooks as pristine and astonishing. Then imagine pretty much all of them swamped by kids wearing Adidas and Nike, imagine them covered in litter, coke cans, grafitti, and then imagine these are all right next door to a McDonalds or Starbucks with lines out the door. Then imagine sitting at an open door cafe overlooking the Mediterranean, sipping on a cold, refreshing beer. Now imagine Carly Rae Japsen asking you to call her, maybe. Over and over again. I'm not trying to complain but rather just point out that America's reach is pretty far and wide. Sure, it made for interesting juxtapositions, but I personally cringed at it. Ah well, such is globalization (Er, or...Americanization...?)...
Communication is Key.
Learning even a few basic words of the native language can go a very long way. Add in emphatic hand gestures and the correct voice inflection and you're IN. Here's how I learned this: Cab drivers in Greece (or at least in Athens and in Crete where I have been so far), apparently do not need to take drivers license tests. I just made that up actually, but basically I just want you to understand that in my opinion, they are just crappy, fast, insane drivers who love using their horn at any chance they get. When my taxi driver from the Port took me back to the Village of Kastelli, he nearly hit two stray dogs and almost ran off the cliff. I looked up in my handy-dandy Greek Language Map how to say "slower, please" and used my hand to do that Italian pinch sign. He paused, then laughed and apologized, slowed down and drove like a normal person, and gave me 2 euros off the fare telling me he was impressed. Note: Neither the dogs nor I were injured in the making of this part of the blog.
Don't judge a book by its cover.
Actually, just don't judge anything or anyone by its, uh...anything. I've learned you should never judge a country or city by its airport, a man's character by his car, a cafe by its music, a young American girl by her petite size and friendly nature (hehe), or a middle-aged man with a child "staring" at you (obviously use your common sense on interacting with those kinds, but just don't judge too quickly!)...you will likely be wrong 99% of the time.
The Cretan airport is, well, run-down and isolated. The island itself is, well, lively and amazing.
The man who gave me a ride to my hotel in Kissamos had a dirty run down mini-van that I was afraid wouldn't even reach the few kilometers we had to go; he ended up being the owner of one of the best restaurants I've been to and extremely accommodating, intelligent and generous.
I almost decided not to go into that Middle Eastern place for lunch in Amsterdam due to it's insane club-like music when I approached it, but like I said in an earlier post, thank goodness I did because that was one of the best falafels I've ever had.
I pity the fool who judges the bug as a clueless, naive Connecticut girl... Europeans didn't know what was coming. Asians have yet to find out ;)
And my last but not least brief experience about pre-judgements...
Yesterday I took a day trip boat with a group of tourists to the island of Grandvousa and then to Balos Lagoon. I sat on the top deck to milk the sun as much as I could (as a bug does in the Mediterranean...) and on the bench next to me was a middle-aged man with his son, who kept looking my way for extended periods of time. I hid behind my large sunglasses and was hoping his wife would come back from the bathroom at last, but instead, the little kid, maybe 4 years old, walked over to me and pointed to my camera that I had around my neck (yes, like an embarrassingly obvious tourist). I asked him if he wanted me to take a picture of him with it and he just stared back at me. The guy jumped in, speaking in Spanish and said "Ah, no gracias. It's OK. No, no." Just then the boat rocked and the little boy fell on his bum. He started laughing as did I, as did his father. The ice was broken. Anyway - long story short, he turned out to be a very nice guy and my heart went out to him. He was likely in his late forties and had lived in Madrid his whole life but did some type of international business (didn't really understand what he said he did) so he spoke English quite well. His wife had just died of lung cancer earlier this year and he had taken a leave of absence from his job and was traveling Europe with his son, looking for his silver lining (obviously, he didn't say that, but I'm convinced that is what he was doing). He had been staring at the beautiful view of the sea and Greek islands behind me (uh, so was not at all staring at me...felt like a jerk) because to him, it meant a beautiful, new beginning. Couldn't agree more :)
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