My Life as a Hamburger: Sometimes shit happens...

Wow, it seems like an eternity since I’ve written anything. I would say that I’m sorry, except that I’m not, because I’ve been too busy gallivanting around Ireland and Scotland and enjoying (almost) every minute of it.

I say “almost” because no one can expect to travel anywhere and not encounter a disaster or two (or three). This trip in particular involved a train strike in Germany that meant I almost wasn’t able to leave the country, a woman who sold me a 5 pound meat pie (the form of currency pound, not the weight pound. Not that I wouldn’t have accepted the challenge of eating 5 pounds of meat pie, because I totally would have), and then shortchanged me 10 pounds, making that damn pie just about the most expensive meal I’ve had thus far while abroad, and a train ticket to Glasgow that I accidentally purchased for the wrong day, meaning that I was out yet another 15 pounds (side note: money conversions suck).

Anyone who has traveled (either in the U.S. or abroad) is bound to have disaster stories, so today, ladies and gentlemen, here are some of my best ones (punctuated by random pictured from Scotland and Ireland, because why not). These stories span about five years of travel, twelve countries, and numerous friends/travel buddies who can vouch for their legitimacy.

Sometimes disasters come in simple forms, such as your electronics breaking or doing weird things. Sometimes your American phone doesn’t work. Sometimes your Italian phone doesn’t work. Sometimes your German phone doesn’t work. Sometimes you break two pairs of headphones within a week. Sometimes your laptop stops charging because it is five years old, which is like a dinosaur in electronics years. Sometimes you’re not sure which converter or adapter goes where and maybe your hair dryer makes a sound like it wants to blow up and destroy us all.

Occasionally disasters come in more complex forms, like when you fear for your mental health, and by “fear for your mental health” I mean “fear for the safety of others because they are making you really mad and you are about to slap the shit out of somebody”. During the four months when I was studying in Rome I actually needed counseling so that I didn’t murder my crazy roommate. Previous to that roommate debacle, I actually once moved out of my room so I didn’t murder yet another roommate while in Paris (and I let my temper fly a little bit that time, therefore making one of my friends scared of ever making me angry).

There are also transportation disasters, like my entire trip to Croatia. There was the boat cruise from hell, when we got stuck out on the water in a storm and everyone but a handful of us spent the entire trip sea sick in the back of the boat (while the rest of us hid up front and rode it out like champions). Then there was the car accident, when a car flipped on the highway and hit our tour bus, resulting in us sitting on the side of the road for hours waiting for the police to show up.

And then there are the random daily disasters, like getting lost (like I said before, I have a habit of being convinced that I am heading in the right direction, when it turns out that I am actually heading in the exact opposite direction of where I should be going), having money problems (I have had debit card problems more often than I’d care to discuss), getting extremely sunburnt (in both Greece and Spain, because they are dangerous countries for pale peoples like myself), and, you know, maybe accidentally forgetting to pack all of your pants (I will never live that one down).

But here’s the thing; not only do these disasters make for great stories, but also for every one of them, I have at least five amazing, wonderful adventures that I’ve had. I’ve stalked Italian waiters, trespassed on Greek construction sites, eaten snails in France, tripe in Portugal, and whole anchovies in Spain. I’ve tackled Carnivale in Venice in the freezing cold and snow, explored an Italian mall where no one spoke English, wandered around Montreal with no plans and no idea what I was doing, spent a day trip to Pisa doing little more than eating and taking a nap in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa (and I enjoyed every second of it), watched flamenco dancing while drunk in Barcelona, seen a stunning waterfall park in Krka, Croatia, been hit on by strange, creepy, and possibly Polish men in Liverpool, performed a belly dance routine in front of my whole school in Rome, drank whiskey with two other English teachers in Edinburgh, gone on a ghost bus tour in Dublin…and the list goes on and on.

When traveling you accept the good and bad, because it is always worth it. Yes the disasters make good stories, but they also make you stronger and more resilient. I’ve never been big on regrets, because I think you can always learn something from your mistakes.

For example, the next time I go to Edinburgh I will pay more attention when buying both train tickets and meat pies (also I will never forget my pants ever again).