Say Manufeek! My First Host; My French Host — Couchsurfing pt. III

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advice, backpacking, couchsurfer, couchsurfing, europe, france, paris, travel

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I’ll always be extraordinarily thankful that I had a couch to surf upon for my arrival in Paris, my first time in a country where I do not speak the language.

My hosts–I was staying with two Parisian girls–had e-mailed me directions from the metro to their apartment in the Montmartre neighborhood.  I de-boarded the train at Pigalle and held the directions tightly between my hands.  I moved slowly through the streets, trying to think through the incredible sensory-overload I was experiencing.  I was lucky for such clear instructions, and found my way with almost no difficulty.

Disclosure: Not my pic

I arrived at a big red door, entered the code they had given me, and pushed my way through.  I found myself in courtyard, surrounded on all sides by an apartment building with aesthetics that can only be described as cinematic.  I called out for my host and she poked her head out of a window whose shutters were wide open and whose frame was bedded down with plants.

This is not the courtyard, but it is similar, if memory serves.

Upstairs, I put my single bag down at my feet as I stood awkwardly in the living room.  I was unsure of any French customs regarding guests and I was afraid to offend.  I soon discovered that my fears were unfounded and I began to experience the natural sense of hospitality that comes (I’ve learned) from sheer humanity.  Her flatmate joined us shortly, and another friend came to “meet the American.”  They sat around, smoking, drinking wine, and discussing ourselves.

Also, this being my first time sitting down with the French, I decided to improve Franco-American relations by asking about every stereotype in the book.  Here are the results of my investigation:

• The French DO bathe.
• The girls DO shave their underarms (visual confirmation was provided).
• They do NOT hate Americans.
• They DO love cheese.
• The ARE baffled by these stereotypes.

The girls insisted on a traditional French dinner and I found myself struggling to subdue my giddiness.  They took me down the street to the boulangerie, the fromagerie, and the patisserie (I hope I spelled those correctly!).  No supermarket was needed–every food we bought was from a different shop specializing in each.  Bread, cheese, and roasted chicken were sold to us, fresh from the keeper’s hands.

I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure this is where we went… I’m doing this from a 2 year old memory and Google Maps 😛

We stopped off at a cafe for a glass of wine (how French!) and then were joined by yet another friend and went up to the apartment to eat.

It was a heavenly meal, accompanied by wine from my host’s father’s vineyards, and I witnessed first hand the French appreciation for food.  When the meal was through they pulled out a copy of Boucle d’or et le Sept Ours Nains, a French take on Goldilocks, and taught me some French from the book.

After talking late into the night, I was told to take a bed and the girls would sleep together.  My first experience couchsurfing, was, in fact, in a bed.

Catch a Wave! — Couchsurfing pt. II

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advice, backpacking, couchsurfer, couchsurfing, europe, fiveeurosaday, travel

If you want to learn how to travel Europe on just €5 a day, check out the Kickstarter page to pre-order a copy of the travel guide and help out!

The hardest thing on Couchsurfing.org is getting that first couch.  It gets easier, bit by bit–people will gain confidence in you as you acquire positive reviews.  In this post I’ll give you some tips on getting your first couch, as well as show you some successful examples for you as well!

Once you’ve filled out your profile, been verified, and found a friend to vouch for you, the first step to your first couch is sending out requests far and wide. The key is sending many, personalized request messages to new members, and being as flexible as possible.

Not that kind of flexible.

Being flexible is about two things. First, you want to make it clear (again, if possible) that your time/date of arrival is negotiable.  This creates a greater range across which people can accommodate you (e.g. If they’re out of town, or if they already have guests).  Second, you should be looking outside of the main tourist destinations.  Hosts living a block from Big Ben are going to have far more people requesting them than a host who lives a 20 minute train ride outside of the city.

What do I mean by personalized?  You need to keep in mind the Couchsurfing philosophy, which discourages using the service as a way to simply save on hotel costs.  You must take the time to read the profile of each person you’re writing to, find a key characteristic, and mention it in the e-mail.  It creates a sort of pseudo-bond, an idea of humanity behind the cold text.

 

Finally, you want to find people in the same metaphorical boat as you.  When you search for hosts, arrange the results so they show “Newest First.”  These people will have the same level of credentials as you and are more likely to accept you as a surfer.

I went back through all my old Couchsurfing data and found that it took 15 individual requests for me to get my first couch.  It only took 10 when I moved on to my next destination, then 9, and then, a little more than a month after I started Couchsurfing, with about a dozen positive reviews on my profile, I only sent 7 requests–all responded, 4 had guests already, and 3 of them accepted.

Here’s some examples of couch-requests I sent out that got the most successful responses (I’ve taken the names out and replaced them with initials–but you should always use a person’s name):

Hi C and L!

I’m a New Yorker travelling from London at the moment, hoping to spend some time in Paris. I’d be arriving tomorrow and staying until…well, I haven’t decided yet. So, any time you might be able to host me in the near future would be great. I’m definitely hoping to meet some people who have an inside perspective on Paris 🙂

Cheers,
Edwin

*****

Hi T!

I’m a New Yorker, backpacking around Europe, currently enjoying Rome. BUT I have a huge desire to go back to Paris for a few days (my favorite city in Europe so far–and I’ve seen most of them!).

I’ll be making my way up over the next two days, arriving on Sunday. I’d like to chill in Paris for about 3 days, if possible.

I’m a pretty flexible person, so if you want to hang out/show me around, that’s awesome, but if you’re busy that’s totally understandable.

Let me know what works for you!

Ciao,
Edwin

P.S. I love unique cheeses and since I saw the movie Ratatouille I’ve always wanted to try it 🙂
*****
Hello N!

I’m going to be travelling through Norway for the next couple of weeks and I was hoping to make it to the More-og-Romsdal area perhaps sometime this weekend.

I’ve never been to Norway, but I’ve always held a very strong affinity for the country, so I’m really hoping to spend some time with people who know the place!

Anyway, I’m fairly flexible with my plans, so let me know what works for you.

Cheers,
Edwin

Sleeping in Style and Comfort for Free — Couchsurfing pt.I

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advice, backpacking, couchsurfer, couchsurfing, europe, Kickstarter, travel

If you want to learn how to travel Europe on just €5 a day, check out the Kickstarter page to pre-order a copy of the travel guide and help out!

The absolute best way to save money and have an incredible time travelling is through Couchsurfing.org.  For the next few days I will hopefully dispel some fears concerning Couchsurfing by posting about personal experiences entrusting myself to kind strangers abroad.

For those who don’t know, Couchsurfing.org is set up similarly to a dating website, except instead of looking for romance (or, whatever! I don’t judge) you’re looking for a place to stay.  People set up profiles, describe themselves, their lives, their homes, and what sort of traveler (or, “surfer”) they’d like to host.

ME! Pick me!!

Now, while it may be called “Couchsurfing,” I’ve only ever stayed on a couch once–and this is a regular thing, not an exception.  Most people have an extra bed, a pull-out, or a blow-up mattress, and I’ve heard stories from people who’ve slept in incredible beds at fancy lofts, grand estates, beach villas, and more!  The “couch” in question is namely a place to lay your head, and you always know what you’re getting yourself into beforehand.

Though Couchsurfing’s main objective is to find a place to sleep–and some do use it on solely those terms–its secondary, or concurrent objective is to bring people of different cultures together.  Some hosts are busy and can only offer you a place to sleep, but more frequently your host will be eager to show you around!

This awesomeness is a direct result of Couchsurfing.

Couchsurfing is the best way to have a place to sleep that costs you absolutely nothing, and gives you much in return.  If you show up at a hotel you have to discover the city by yourself.  Even if you stay at a hostel and make friends, you’re all as ignorant about your surroundings as the next guy.  But when you stay with a native dweller you get an immediate VIP pass to the insider’s view of the common person’s day.

And, more often than not, you get a meal out of it too!

To combat negative behavior in a social network so inherently built on trust, a handful of fairly obvious and intuitive checks have been put in place.

Though occasionally a pants-less American will slip through the cracks…

To begin, you can have your location and identity verified. It costs a pittance and gives you an initial credibility that will help you find your first couch.  Members are also vouched for by other members, and when searching, you can see how frequently they reply to requests.

You can fill out your profile however you want, though a thorough one is recommended.  Finally, once you start “surfing” people can post on your page to leave a public reference, citing you as good/neutral/bad host or surfer.  The more times you’re rated “good” the better–it builds confidence.

Pictured: Confidence
Not-Pictured: Dignity

But it’s hard to get that first couch, especially if you’ve never hosted before, and it’s hard to calm concerns with a simple “verification.”  So, over the next few days I’ll be sharing with you how my first few couchsurfing experiences went in the hopes of encouraging you further.

We’re Kicking it Forward!

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funding, kicking it forward, kickingitforward, Kickstarter

If you want to learn how to travel Europe on just €5 a day, check out the Kickstarter page to pre-order a copy of the travel guide and help out!

“Europe on €5 a Day” will be “Kicking it Forward“!

That means that 5% of our profits (after project completion and expenses are paid) will go to backing other Kickstarter projects.

This is a really cool idea, and I’m excited to be a part of it! Check out the link for more details:

http://www.kickingitforward.org/

The #1 Phrase for Any American Traveling Abroad

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advice, backpacking, europe, france, paris, travel

If you want to learn how to travel Europe on just €5 a day, check out the Kickstarter page to pre-order a copy of the travel guide and help out!

Note: Pictures in this post are not mine.  I lost my camera in Paris and don’t have many pictures from there.

At the base of the Sacre Coeur I was first introduced to Parisian marketing.

These guys are expert marketing agents (also known as “con artists”)

An African man (Nigerian, I believe) walked up to my side, matched pace, and slipped a piece of colorful string around my finger before I knew what was happening.  I looked at him, bewildered, as he began to twist the string.  I shook my head and gave my most convincing “Non!”  He replied energetically in indecipherable French as I tore my hand away.  I shrugged and walked away, shaking my head as he tried again.

When it was clear to him that I was not a French-speaker he looked very surprised.  “Italiano?”  I shake again, trying to walk faster.  “Español?”  I shook my head again, making this man clearly very confused.  “British!” He seemed confident about this assertion and grabbed my elbow, slipping the string back on my finger, saying, “Is for the church! Twenty euro! Is for prayer!”  I took it off again, and pressed away from him forcefully.

€20? What a bargain!!

I then spoke the four most useful words any American can use while traveling abroad:

“I’m from New York.”

Works every time.  The man backed away immediately.  At least one place in this world harbors a reputation for non-gullible tourists and a take-no-prisoners approach to bullshit–and you’d be wise to associate yourself with it whether or not you’re from there.

Many people would suggest saying that you’re Canadian, and while this will get you past annoying questions about George Bush, medical care, and 9/11, it doesn’t stop pan-handlers in their tracks.

“I’m from New York,” or it’s equally effective variant, “I’m a New Yorker,” takes care of all your problems.  Said with proper conviction, pan-handlers will immediately stop trying to hassle you, and strangers will engage you in intelligent conversation, asking you about interesting political and cultural matters.

Remember, this is critical:

ENGLISH: I’m from New York.
SPANISH: Yo soy de Nueva York.
FRENCH: Je suis de New York.
ITALIAN: Io sono di New York.
GERMAN: Ich bin aus New York.
DUTCH: Ik kom ui New York.
SWEDISH: Jag är från New York.
AUSTRALIAN: Oi, mate, I’m from New York!

In and Out of Time—My First Steps in Paris

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backpacking, europe, france, paris, travel

If you want to learn how to travel Europe on just €5 a day, check out the Kickstarter page to pre-order a copy of the travel guide and help out!

Paris, France

September, 2010

Wow. I can’t seem to begin to express my utter delight in this city.  It is everything, and more, that people have told me it would be.  Indeed, the one city in the world I was most skeptical about, the one I was sure I would just see the big sights and move on from, has become a source of endless fascination—the soreness of my feet attest to it, such excruciating pain that I limp until I’m numb, yet I can’t help but to press on, deeper into the city.

That long yellow light in the distance is the Eiffel Tower!

My tired legs have learned their way around the cobblestoned streets.  When I first arrived, my cowboy-booted feet would slip and slide through the unfamiliar spaces, but now I stride across without effort, the rounded pavement massaging my worn soles

Yes. This. This is exactly what I was hoping to see.

Paris is what it is supposed to be.  It is, indeed, very French.  The Seine passes through the heart of the city, coursing past the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, around the Notre Dame cathedral.  Along the shores, and permeating the heart of Paris are buildings that seem passionately wrought—their shutters open to the cool Parisian Autumn with flowers sitting in pots against iron terraces in the window.

The uneven streets wind about, grant passage into thousands of barely-regarded alleyways, lay home to hundreds of brasseries, pattiseries, chocolateries, fromageries, cafes, libraries (oh, the libraries!), and further fresh-food shops.   Along the major through-ways I’ve stumbled across many a street fair, vendors lining the road as far as the eye can see.

Found this cool book at a street vendor. It’s hard to tell, but this thing’s bigger than my torso!

It is the City of Love—the Parisians amorously embraces at all turns, kissing with passionate abandon, and no one bats an eye.  For Parisians, passion seems a good thing.

Nothing says passion like a duet with Ewan McGregor! That, and I thought this pic I took was cool looking.

And they are friendly, to my naïve surprise.  My American-ness has not been an impediment as I presumed it would be.  Most Parisians smile, amused as I stumble about in their language, and bid me adieu with pleasure.  A small handful have been less thrilled about my French illiteracy, but the worst I have suffered is a grimace and a few heavy sighs.

My experience with the language has been full of exciting revelations.  I remember the first word I saw in France, as I got off the bus in Paris. “SORTIE.” At first it almost sent me into a panic!  I’d never before had to rely on inference and intuition in this way.  I had never seen or heard the word before, but it was positioned over a doorway and was written in bold, red, capital letters.  Plus everyone was going that way.  I discerned that it was French for “Exit.”

Is this the “sortie”?

I next made my way to the metro where I found myself completely surrounded by strange words, accent marks, dashes, and those c’s with the funny squiggle at the bottom.  Nothing looked familiar a first.  For a language that supposedly donated enough words to English to comprise about two-thirds of my mother tongue, I was having a hard time finding my linguistic relatives.  The entire time I was on the metro I was more anxious than I’ve ever been on public transportation (except maybe the 6 train to Pelham Bay at 3 AM).

Creepiest subway entrance, ever.

The discomfort and unfamiliarity dissipated after a while.  As the novelty wore off I was able to think more clearly and apply my knowledge of English, Spanish, and Latin, as well as use context clues, to understand almost all of what I saw.  Now, I feel utterly confident in my surroundings.

Confidence, baby!

When first visiting the Eiffel Tower, I walked quickly towards it, under it, and beyond it, across the river to the opposite bank, and peered ahead only to see that, perhaps a kilometer away, was a monolithic office building—black, gleaming, towering—alone in its space and seeming to challenge the great symbol that is Paris.  I cringed with something like fury, then abruptly turned from it and went on my way.  I could not stand to look at it any longer, but the thought of its unnatural presence stuck in my mind, and suddenly I became terribly aware of all the 21^st century around me, its buildings seeping between the ancient ones.

I lost my camera while in Paris, so I don’t have the picture with the office building. Enjoy this one instead!

I am much repulsed by the modernity and graceless corporatism I see creeping into the city.  You see, I arrived in a section of the city called Montmartre, just a block away from the steps of the Sacre Coeur.  It is a vision of the Old World.  As you walk from Montmartre to the Louvre and through to the southern bank of the Seine, you are surrounded by the Paris of yesteryear, the Paris of our collective imagination, perfectly preserved.  But, if you pass outside of certain bounds, you quickly become aware of a metamorphosis.  Suddenly, the charming edifices give way to glass-and-steel constructions—cranes rise ominously in the distance.

Yeah, I don’t have a picture of anything modern except these shiny cars near the Notre Dame Cathedral. That’s an angle you don’t see very often!

But I guess that’s what makes this such an authentic city, at ease with its past and its future, yet focused on today.  Americans seem uncomfortable about their future, the British about their past (or is it vice versa?).  The French are okay with both, they sit in the moment, and, as such, present a city that seems to sit both in and out of time.

Simplicity of the British—or, Where’s the Union Jack?

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backpacking, British, England, europe, London, travel

If you want to learn how to travel Europe on just €5 a day, check out the Kickstarter page to pre-order a copy of the travel guide and help out!

London,England

September 2010

I adore the incredible simplicity here.  For example, one of the attractions of central London is The Monument.  That’s all.  Just: The Monument.

I couldn’t imagine what might deserve such a singular name, but as I rounded the corner out of the Underground I found myself faced with a stunningly large monolith.

Pure stone soars into the sky, and its width around is incredible.  Utterly simple, the Monument is carved as an Doric column, and at the base is a Latin inscription, an English description, and a bas relief sculpture.  Atop it is a simple golden sculpture with a deck for viewing.

Completed in 1677, its purpose is to commemorate the Great Fire of London (1666) and stands 202 feet tall—the exact distance from the base of the Monument to the spot where the fire started.  It is the tallest isolated stone column in the world, yet this monument, surely an astonishing sight in its day, is now blocked out by mere office buildings.  A shame, really, but this beautifully simple structure is truly a sight to behold.

Everything in England seems simple, and this extends to its safety regulations and laws.  I saw a bonfire on Guy Fawkes Night that would have been shut down in moments by half a dozen squad cars and the organizers jailed if it was lit in America.  I nearly lost a toe to a firecracker that’d been stuffed into the kindling of the blaze. But, this is England, so stand back from the fire y’wanker—or don’t.

Everything is a suggestion—but a strong one at that.  There is little to tell you what not to do, but rather there are signs which inform you that every inch of street is covered by cameras, so do as you wish, but, you know, don’t.

I didn’t take this picture, but I don’t remember where I got it from either…

Their national pride matches this subtlety.  Flags don’t wave from every building, car, and lamppost.  So far—and only after searching—I’ve seen just one British flag flying, and that was atop a government building.  Yet their cultural and national pride is unmistakable.

The British themselves seem very comfortable with being British.  Whereas an American might feel extraordinary, boastful pride in their nationality, or be even a bit apologetic, the British simply are.  Yeah, they’ve got lots of history. Yeah, they’re kinda powerful. Yeah, they’re a little backwards (at least to an American like me!).  It’s cool.  Everything—good or bad—seems to get a bit of a shrug and a bashful smile.

It is understandable, though.  I get it, the British mindset.  They have existed for eons.  They have ruled, been ruled, and everything between.  They have made history and witnessed it made.  They have existed for longer than memory can effectively recall—and it shows.  There is an ebb and flow to the ways of humanity and after so many times up and down the socio-political ladder of power, they’re used to it.  If they’re up they’re up—if they’re not they’re not.  They do not have anything to prove.

The British are content with their day to day run, the commute, the grind—and content with complaining almost dutifully about it.  The world goes on regardless of a man’s intent and the British seem to have internalized that.

The London Eye is a symbol of the persistently repeated nature ot….stuff. Really, I just wanted to put a picture here.

Americans, on the other hand, have only been here for barely over two hundred years.  We are fresh awake with the youth of our nation.  We still see possibility.  Every action we have taken in our nation’s short life has been of some great consequence and it seems a part of the American consciousness that we can and must perpetuate that influence.  The British have left their glory to the royalty and the knightly caste—America has left it to its “lowliest citizen.”  Americans are boastful and hubristic—the British, though certainly not perfect, are wizened.

Kickstarter Update #1: A wild Justin appears!

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backpacking, europe, funding, Kickstarter, travel

I promised, and I have delivered: a video featuring my travel-companion, Justin Schroeder:

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1258032283/europe-on-5-euros-a-day/posts/235375

It’s been one week since we launched our Kickstarter project!  We’ve raised almost $300 which is 3% of our total funding goal.

I’ve got a challenge ahead of me, but with your help I’m sure we can make this a reality!  If we can double the “percent funded” each week we’ll be all set to go by the deadline!  All I need is a little help spreading the word.

If you think a guidebook featuring only travel advice that helps you stick to €5 a day is an awesome idea, please pre-order a copy of the book!

Enjoy the vid 🙂

In all the world, where to go?

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advice, backpacking, England, europe, france, norway, travel

If you want to learn how to travel Europe on just €5 a day, check out the Kickstarter page to pre-order a copy of the travel guide and help out!

Some would tell you to see the whole world, or to experience every place for it’s individual inherent beauty.  Well, not everyone can go see the whole world, and not everyone wants to–and that’s fine.  Some just want to find the nearest Caribbean beach and veg. Awesome.

Second, while, if you’ve got the mindset for it, any place and any time can become a moment of transcendental experience, some of us want a sure thing.  I was wildly disappointed in Prague, finding myself updating my family by e-mail from a Starbucks and finding that the place’s inherent beauty seemed mostly perpetuated by its status as something of a city-wide museum.

But in other places I was able to work around my crushed expectations.  In France, I was able to think past the McDonald’s form-fitted into the corner of an ornate building by focusing on what was around it, and by focusing on its essential irony.  In Norway I was able to enjoy myself by getting out of the cities and experiencing a world where corporate modernity seems to be a luxury.

Before leaving for Europe for the first time I had certain expectations, mostly brought on by television shows and photographs I had witnessed throughout my life.  Many times I would visit a place, like Pompeii, the south of France, or even Hollywood, and become put off by all which had been hidden in the un-photographed edges of what had fueld my imagination.

Someone’s comfy near the Eiffel Tower

I believe that the key to successful travel planning is thinking clearly about why you want to go where you want to go.  If it’s perfectly framed pictures that have drawn you, then try to imagine what is not shown.  Look beyond the left edge of the photo, and if you can imagine a gaudy gift shop there and still find the place desirable, then go.  If you can imagine what the place looks like without the careful hand of a skilled photographer/videographer framing each perfect moment and still believe in its beauty, then grab your bag.

In the same way, if you’ve been drawn by stories, by legends, by old movies, then be ready to find a world that may bear little resemblance to your expectations.  The great invaders of history have shown little concern for your nostalgia–whether they came in chain-mail or with chain restaurants.

I remember having read The Canterbury Tales and being wildly excited to arrive in Southwark, in London.  I went searching for the famous Tabard Inn, around which the whole story–the  great, essential work of Middle English–begins.  After searching for quite some time I noticed a blue historical marker above a print shop.  The Tabard Inn was gone.

I was crushed, yet, when I set out for Canterbury myself, I left from in front of the print shop, with several very confused employees looking out at me taking pictures of myself with their store.

At the end of the day it’s a matter of preference, but with so many places to visit in the world this technique of deciding which locales to enjoy is one I’m starting to use more and more.  Be sure of your motives and expectations and you’ll help to prevent wasting your time and money.

In the Footsteps of Vikings—Riding Through the Awesome Beauty of Norway

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backpacking, europe, fjord, norway, travel

If you want to learn how to travel Europe on just €5 a day, check out the Kickstarter page to pre-order a copy of the travel guide and help out!

On a bus from Bergen to Volda, Norway

October 2012

This—this—is nature unmolested. Fjords cut steep, rocky valleys through the coast of Norway. The spread of the water is in some places wide—one, two kilometers across—and in others just a mellow river’s breadth.

The land available for settlement is scant and sparse, and homes are built against the sides of the immense rock faces. You don’t have room for a Wal-Mart here. Where would you build it? And how would people get to it? Where there are larger towns it seems the buildings are wholly subservient to geography, crushed between crystal water and sheer mountain face.

Our bus has to cross by ferry at several points, and the roads we’re driving now are terrifyingly small, the edge of the bus hanging over a precipice as we are forced to pass the occasional eighteen wheeler close enough to joust.

Sheep graze along the side of the road. When the sun breaks through the clouds over a fjord’s peak it sheds light like a god’s blessing. The more I see of the natural world the more I understand the minds and motives of our ancestors.

5,000 year old viking rock carving (of an elk?) in Narvik

Behind some of these houses you can see, as you frequently do along these fjord walls, waterfalls cascading, thin and meek, to the water below. Everywhere, one can see the activity of glaciers millennia past—boulders perched precariously in unlikely positions, fields of stones with centuries of moss spread on them. To someone raised on modern films, it all seems like some fantastical CGI of an impossible world brought to life. I don’t know if I can do this place justice with words. I don’t know if I should keep trying.

Stetind Mt. in Narvik

And so I won’t.