7 choses à éviter pour le nouveau Backpacker
All information that the new backpacker needs to know
In the past decade, this lowly vagabond has spent approximately twelve days outside of my beautiful adopted country of New Zealand – said time being the last twelve days. That’s non-inclusive of a brief fling with Adelaide (the city, I don’t got game), where all I did was sink piss and highlight the fact that I’m a massive twat at my mother’s brother’s wedding. So in essence, that really was just business as usual. In little under a fortnight, the learning curve has been steep, and thus I feel it necessary to share a humble list of missteps and wrong-doings that any slightly bewildered and sheltered young backpacker creature might fall into the trap of recommitting.
Here are seven things for the naïve backpacker, young, dumb and full of cum, to avoid like a pair of crocs and zip off pant-shorts:
Taxis: Don’t get fucked over by a metered-taxi driver. Like on the way out of Kuala Lumpur airport. You’ll only lose out on about ten bucks, but it’s the principle of being literally driven round bend after bend, that will figuratively drive you round the bend. And if you’re in a more expensive place like, say, Paris, it won’t be only 10 bucks you lose.
Street food: Don’t ask a street vendor “what can I get for one Malaysian Ringgit?” – you’ll end up with undercooked chicken sausage and food poisoning. Be selective about your vendor – watch where the locals go.
Chic’ing it up: Don’t go to a slightly higher class hostel on your lonesome because you think you deserve some comfort and less drunk people. The only people you’ll meet will be an elderly Swiss couple and a fella there on business from Penang and you’ll be comfy but drinking alone.
Sleeping rough: Don’t assume you’ll just “sleep on the streets” in Amsterdam, because all the hostels are too expensive to book. When you stumble around at 2am looking for a warm place to rest your head (at €40/night), the cold will have been the least of your worries.
Starting on the wrong side of the bed: Don’t expect to see anything in Amsterdam if you start each morning off at the “coffee shop”. It’s all downhill from there. Or very uphill, depending on how you look at it.
Shitfaced Shopping: Don’t buy a shitty conversion plug mid-way through said “coffee shop” binge. It won’t work when you get home, and by the time you’ve sobered up you’ll have forgotten where you bought it from.
And finally. Most vitally. Debunked: Don’t choose the top bunk in your hostel in Brugges – if you actually manage to get into the bed, gravity will be the only way you’re getting out. And you’ll be walking like 50 Cent for the next week.
Bonus Rookie Warning: Flemish beer x Flemish beer + 6 ft. of elevated slumber = a limp so fierce Betty White will be standing up for you on the bus.