I’ve been home exactly 2 weeks and I have already fallen into my old routine of waking up around 6am, laying there awake but without brain wave activity until 7- sometimes 8 depending on the previous nights activities, surfing the web, chatting online with my favorite Kangaroo, talking to friends on the phone till the afternoon, running errands, working out and then hanging out with friends till bed. Hmmm, kind of sounds like I’m 14 again! What I’ve just described is a stark contrast to the rigors of backpacking life for me this past month. I must warn you, this is one long blog… So you might wanna pack a lunch!
I had trouble deciding whether Euro ’09 was worth all the bullshit I had to put up with just to ”live the dream” and feel like I was being extorted whenever I turned around. I believe I could have stayed home for that! I had to endure things that would make the most hardened Hells Angel weep like Glenn beck at a telethon. Most of it centered around how much everything cost. Or how at times I was hopelessly lost. Or how one of the contestants got tossed.. Right away I got yelled at by security in the London airport for taking photographs. I should have known right then that this voyage would be no walk it the park. Right off the bat I couldn’t find a decent hostel in London. Later, Justin and I hopped the flight from London to Barcelona in plenty of time, only to be delayed on the taxiway for over an hour because someone forgot to deliver the cookies. Finally we get into Barcelona well after dark to take 3 train transfers to an unsavory suburb with no street lights and apparently no taxis. This, because the online directions we copied for our hostel were completely twisted. After feeling around in the dark of this neighborhood we finally came across a nice couple that called a cab for us and *POOF* , 20 Euros plus a 30 minute ride back to our original train station we were finally able to have it out with our hostel managers (nothing came of it of course). It almost wasn’t even worth going to sleep as we only had one night reserved. And every hostel in town was packed, so we had no choice but to move location. After searching for our next nights accomodations which costs $1.30 U.S. per 15 minute on average, we did manage to find some really neat looking digs for cheap. The place was called InOut Hostel and it included 3 swimming pools and an ok breakfast! There were even a few snags with this because of how far up in the hills the hostel was and how hard it was to find. All sleep deprived and pissed-off from being lost the night before we spent almost all of day four walking the city, with full packs, seeking directions from any Spaniard who can understand my crappy spanglish. Needless to say we got there via trains but we hadn’t really figured the rail system out yet so even that sucked cause we kept going to the wrong side of the platforms. Before we knew it, we would be three stops on in the opposite direction before we realized our error. Back to the InOut hostel: So it takes forever to get us checked in because they had no record of our reservation. But the rate was super cheap and we couldn’t wait to hit the pools they so eagerly bragged about online as it had been a hot and muggy mile hike straight up a narrow road from where the train dropped us. At least the rooms were nice. We immediately unpacked our swim gear and sweated another mile uphill in flip-flops to three small above-ground pools full of gritty water and dead mosquitos. NICE! We just went back to the room and layed in our bunks till the sun went down. Now, I had been managing a cold fairly handily to this point. It never really kept me down. A few glorious days of sights and we had decided the best thing was to scratch the idea of Paris and Ibitza as the reality of just how expensive it would be to cover that much ground began to sink in. We found no alternate options. Planes were packed. Trains and busses only ran on certain days. So there was but to reluctantly reserve a pricey ticket to Amsterdam instead via Brussels, by way of Ryan Air. Of course, we were unaware that Ryan Air doesn’t fly to the major airports in Europe despite giving you the option online. We actually selected tickets from Barcelona to Brussels but we soon realized we would have to pay extra and find our way from city centers to small satellite airports; and of course our plane was delayed over an hour; and I personally ended up paying an extra 20 euro penalty to check my stupid backpack because I failed to check off “checking one bag” at ticket purchase.
After literally trekking all day we made it to Amsterdam at around 10 pm and spent a few hours trying to find a reasonably priced hostel in the cold. BOTH of us now having colds and starving. Now all this I was able to put behind me as long as we had reservations at my beloved Flying Pig hostel which I had the best time in last year. This joint had cool kids, the BEST breakfast, clean rooms… Ahh, but this was the nightmare trip from hell.. ”The Pig” happened to be renovating and had completely ripped out their bar and kitchen so this year’s free breakfast consisted of a honey bun and apple instead of the PB & J sandwiches, cereals, coffee, teas and boiled eggs they had the year prior. My heart was broken. For the the first time I began to think this trip was seriously cursed.. It’s no wonder Justin lost his mind and had to be voted off the island… I will just say this – There were a few things we were not going to see eye to eye on, and there was no way I could press on with that kind of negativity. This trip by itself was already tough enough.
So I headed to Germany a few days early. Which my friend Peggy, who lives in Berlin who graciously offered to put me up for the week, had not expected. And so of course the only way I could let her know this was via email. Peggy didn’t get to read the email until after I was forced to walk the city until 2am searching for a bed in vain on a big holiday weekend. After which I ended up back at the Westbanhoff train station to sleep for about 1 freezing hour on the floor, next to an ATM for a little warmth. But at least I had my lovely hippie friend Sarah who I met on the train (who also never had a shortage of things to say, bless her heart) to keep me company despite me being completely brain-dead….. Peg and I arranged to have me rescued that morning and the next 4 days were some of the best of the entire trip just because I finally got to relax and have some fun with real German people, not tourists. 
The train from Berlin to Prague was trouble free and cheap thanks 
again to Peggy and her connections. However, I once again arrived to Prague in the middle of the night all cold, lost and in the dark. I simply hiked around awhile until I found a major street to flag down a cab. Turns out it was only a five minute walk to my new hostel from the train station. Who knew? I certainly wasn’t trusting online directions any more. Then there was the cabbie! The only issue I had with the cabbie was discovering the Czech Republic hadn’t converted to the Euro note yet. I had plenty of Euros in my pocket but no Czech Crowns. When I went to pay he says something in broken english that souns like “110″ something or another… and I was like WHAT?? 110 EUROS!!!???!!! FOR A TWO MINUTE CAB RIDE!!!??? We exchanged our native languages till we came to some sort of understanding. I just had to borrow Crowns from the hostel till the banks opened the next day. I’m pretty sure the driver ended up with way more of a tip than he deserved but, whatever. I was finally in Prague!
Prague was AMAZING but like said, cold. I guess the summer I’m used to never really shows up in Europe. I only spent a couple of action packed days walking around, partying/dancing alone and catching an opera before I was off down south to Vienna where it was expected to be a little warmer.
Getting to Vienna was fine. I arrived at a decent hour, found a wonderful hostel and made friends right away. Friends that spoke perfect english!!! Hooray Daniel and Anja! You never realize how lonely it can be when you stay somewhere that you don’t speak the language. One of my favorite authors likens it to instantly being 4 years old again. You can’t speak or read and are completely disoriented much of the time. This can be kind of fun at first.. But after a month, you start creating imaginary friends and mumbling to yourself on street corners and stuff… But I digress.
I spent 4 days in Vienna chillin’ with hostel peeps, hitting museums and stumbling in and out of random bars. I began to realize that this big city stuff is nice but not really my speed. I was supposed to move on to Budapest but I felt the force of nature calling me. I had been hearing some good things about Slovenia’s natural beauty so I made a last minute detour down there to get back to basics. Unfortunately, Old Man Drama had other ideas…..
I hopped the earliest train out of Vienna with a change in Villach, Austria > then supposedly arriving Ljubljana by 12 noon. I immediately found this “earliest train” thing to be a HUGE mistake! First, I paid almost $100 for this ride. I had modest expectations of watching the lovely Austrian landscape from the comfort of my cramped little train seat at the very least. BUT, as it turns out, it can be standing room only, first come first serve. And even though I was more that a half hour early; there was an entire high school that got there earlier than me. So no seat for Miguel. NONE! I had to sit on my pack or stand for 4 hours, with no windows, next to the bathrooms, right where these kids constantly ran between trains playing grab-ass with each other. So after 4 hours of finding my happy place I get to my transfer stop with 4 minutes to spare. I ran around with 40 lbs. of shit on my back for 10 minutes trying desparetely to find my Ljubljana train in vain cause everything is in labeled German. So there I was, stuck in Villach for 2 extra hours. It was the first time in the trip where my spirits actually started getting pretty low. Instead of making the most of my extended Villach visit I decided to pout in an internet cafe till go time. When I finally got on my Slovenia ride, I found out the hard way that some European trains aren’t real good at replenishing the bathroom toilet paper. You really don’t want to know what I had to do to rectify the situation… I got to Ljubljana 3 hours later than hoped but I was no less relieved to be done with trains and teenagers for a while. I immediately started asking around in order to get my bearings and was making arrangements to purchase a bus ride to the Medetarranian coast the next day when I realized that my passport wasn’t in my left front pocket as usual. My body immediately went cold. I went into “ok Mike, don’t panic” mode.. Slowly began reaching around to all my other pockets to find my wallet, gum and chapstick but no passport. *Here’s where I began losing my mind in addition to my passport.* After the delayed Partridge Family train and an itchy ass from having no TP, I had apparently had enough. Though I knew the passport couldn’t be in my bags, I reached into my backpack and began feeling out every stitch of clothing and chucking them as hard as I could in every direction for about 5 minutes until the police showed up. AND GUESS WHAT THEY WANTED TO SEE FIRST!!!!??? …… It didn’t take me long to come back down to earth once I realized I could end up in a Slovenian jail with no passport and an itchy ass. And lucky for me the young officer spoke good english. And all 6 officers were sympathetic to my frustration. They even helped me pick up all my underwear and pointed me in the direction to report my passport lost! Nice huh? $100 and 36 hours of off-and-on dealing with U.S. Embassy paperwork and police reports, I was back in the biz! With the worst seemingly behind me, the next few days were pure magic. Castles, forests, lakes and some great people. But the time had come to catch my flight back to the UK and a visit with my dear friend Joanne in Manchester before heading back to the U.S.!
But not so fast! I understood that it would take a half hour to get from the Ljubljana bus terminal to the airport via shuttle and I was at the bus station more than 3 hours prior to takeoff. Once again, drama seemed to catch up to me. I even jokingly warned folks when I got to the shuttle stop that I was cursed! Long story short, the shuttle broke down but we at the terminal had no way of knowing till too late. I tried for a cab ride but they wanted 40 euro so of course my dumb ass opted for the city bus figuring it would get me there just in time. NOT SO MUCH! It took an hour and 10 minutes to arrive at the airport which was 10 minutes too late. You see, European discount airlines close their check-in desks a full 45 minutes prior to the plane taking off, noooo exceptions! So even though I could see my plane hadn’t even begun boarding yet, and despite putting on my coolest charm and then then meanest angry face, the only remaining EasyJet ticketing agent wasn’t having any of it. He proceded to charge me $80 extra to catch the next days flight to London and find me the closest hotel to crash at which cost an extra $65 I didn’t budget for… I just had to smile and scratch my head at this point. All the optimism in the world was not helping my case but it wasn’t all bad either. This hotel was pretty killer for the price and it had a buffet breakfast and dinner spread that would make Vegas jealous! Plus it was set back in a wonderful farm community which was the stage for some fun picture taking and hiking. Next day I made sure I was at the airport 5 hours early and was the first one to show my face to the same ticket agent when the desk opened. Few words were spoken but him and I will forever share the same kind of bond that is shared between two fighters after a 12 round boxing match.
I got to London and the plan was to catch a train to Manchester. Jo had the route all picked out for me. All I had to do was get through customs and catch the trian. Simple enough? Not really! Igot held up at customs and the the train ticket windows. I got charged $150 US dollars for a 2 hour ride to Manchester. I mention this because I could have saved my self a whole lot of headache and some cash by just flying direct to Manchester. But after some other little BS and borrowing strangers cellphones, Jo and I got it together and had a really nice 4 days of visiting, sightseeing and hanging with her family. Another $150 to get back to London to catch my 17 hour flight home and it’s all done.. All except for the jet-lag!
I’m not trying to make it sound like it was all bad or that all my travels are as challenging as this. Quite the contrary. I have had some absolutely AWESOME experiences! I write the challenging stuff out so you guys can learn from my mistakes and giggle a bit at my occasional (or sometimes constant) misfortune. I also like to let the pics speak for themselves. But I would encourage ya’ll to pack light, do your homework, bring your pom-poms, cell phone and some toilet paper to your next Europe trip.
Some folks, myself included, might question whether or not this trip was worth it. Maybe some, like my Momma might wonder why I did this to myself. Perhaps all this happened because I just go for it without much planning or knowledge. Maybe it was the time of year I chose to go. Or maybe it was just bad luck. In any case, it didn’t take me long once I got home to decide it WAS indeed worth it after having drinks with people I never met before. And as we exchanged travel stories I became energized anew. They lit up with me as though we were all plugged into the same power outlet. Through all this drama I just chronicled, I did have the great fortune to do things and see things that many can only imagine. Like for instance standing in front of La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. Or meeting friends of lifelong and life changing potential in Amsterdam. Like learning what hospitality, friendship and happiness truly mean in Berlin and Manchester. Or like catching one of Motzart’s most famous opera’s where opera was born in Prague. Or standing on top of the Duomo in Firenze at sunset with a bottle of wine I snuck in, just in time for the 8pm bells to toll across the city. Hell, I must admit even getting punked by a deadly, full sized wild boar was pretty damn unforgettable! That kind of stuff NEVER happens to me ordinarily! 
And now back to the reality of my existance at home in Las Vegas. I can forsee life as I have known it changing dramatically and soon. I’m not sure of how it will all work out, but sometimes I need reminding that everything will work out as it always has. And for better or worse, I will attempt to journal it as it happens and maybe even share some with friends in a blog from time to time…
Someone whom I respect and admire, but still haven’t had the priveledge of meeting recently wrote a blog of great personal insight, which contained some quotes that absolutely resonated at a time I was most fearful :
~It is easier to be angry. Or funny. Or sarcastic. Or witty. Or pretty much anything else besides being vulnerable or lost.
~People go to a lot of trouble to project the person they want to be to the world and the ultimate cost of that is losing who they really are down to the core.
~To run may not appear to be the most honorable method, but sometimes it is what you have to do. Sometimes you just have to get out. And when all your other exit strategies have gone horribly awry – all that is left to do is go. And honor aside, I would suggest that it is brave. This is one thing that I have come to accept.
~They are huge. They are life changing. They are not what I anticipated. They are unlimited and scary. They are what I truly want. This is one thing I am ready to deal with.
~There is so much that is new now. Ideas, realities, music, projects, connections, truths, feelings. It is out of control. It is time. What I thought does not matter. What is = Matters. This is one thing I am sure of.
Another dear friend said today that it may be time to exercise the ghosts of the past and rebuild a new life which just may end up being much more fulfilling. You never know…
I am presumably about halfway done with life, give or take… 38 years young and a bit more grey than I would like on the ol’ dome. But knowing what I have learned of myself and the world around me it seems that I have a golden opportunity and a few tough choices at the moment; do I “get a job” and do the ”safe and responsible” thing or take a bit more time and experience what this planet has to offer at the risk of losing a major material asset.? I sometimes get a little uneasy, butterfly feeling in the gut when I think about changes ahead, especially with how this last trip went. But ultimately if my current job search bears no fruit by November, I think we know where I’m probably leaning. Tell me honestly, which path would you choose if you were in my shoes? I hope this was as fun for you to read as it was for me to write…..
Until next! With smiles from across the miles,
M
