9 Unprofound Lessons I Learned from 6 Months in Europe
Originally published in January 2016
They say you learn a lot about yourself while traveling. While I wholeheartedly agree with that, after just having spent the last six months galavanting through 12 different countries in Europe, I’m inclined to say that you’ll learn almost as much about the world around you.
1. Maps are really hard to fold. This one may be specific to me but considering I come from a generation that never had to use physical maps much, I’m hoping it resonates. Why do they have to be folded into so many different directions? It’s like handling a really lame piece of origami. Are they purposefully frustrating so that you force yourself to just remember the directions instead? Whatever the reason, thank god for GPS.
2. Sometimes you don’t need to look at a map, just look up. Despite this sounding deep and metaphorical, I mean this literally. Street signs were made for a reason.
3. If you see a Hard Rock Cafe, run for the hills. Most of us know that Hard Rock Cafes are the worst (see: any Hard Rock Cafe, ever) but in case their terrible food isn’t reason enough to steer clear, know that they are also a bona fide marker of a tourist trap. Having now seen one in every major European city, I can confirm that they inhabit a city’s most commercial, culturally-depleted area.
4. Salad has a loose definition in Europe. How is it that America is the country with a reputation for greasy grub when it’s nearly impossible to find anything green on traditional European menus? I realize that as a Californian who’s used to the widespread availability of fresh fruits and veggies, my palate may be slightly more sophisticated than the average diner. But when I order a salad from a French restaurant with double-dollar-signs on TripAdvisor, I think it’s fair to expect something more dynamic than iceberg lettuce topped with olive oil and salt.
5. Sampled sunscreen from the pharmacy protects just as well as the purchased kind and it takes up none of the suitcase room. The only downside to this tactic is that reapplying is necessary when you’re as pale as I am, which requires multiple visits to (ideally different) drug stores throughout the day. Pro tip: loudly proclaiming that you “just can’t decide on the SPF level” is a great way to simultaneously excuse and call attention to yourself while in the act.
6. Toilet seat covers are hard to find outside of California. Why don’t people like to protect their bums in other states and countries? I know that much of Europe champions ~the bidet~ but those aren’t really covering the cheek area. I love DIY as much as the next girl but in a world where time is money, crafting seat covers one-TP-sheet-at-a-time must be widening the gender wage gap.
7. A good travel pillow and an eye mask are worth the investment. This is really only partially new information. In anticipation of my trip to Southeast Asia last year, I purchased a Wirecutter-endorsed neck pillow and it was an absolute godsend. But what really leveled it up was adding a proper eye mask into the mix. Thanks to a friend who gifted me with one before this trip, I’m now an expert plane snoozer. I may look unhinged to passersby but anyone judging my plane style has to be awake to do that— suckers.
8. Kids on planes are straight up the worst. Before I get into this one, I’d like to mention that I genuinely like (most) kids. In my days as a summer camp counselor, I spent the three best months of the year with munchkins of all ages; I chaperoned them on field trips to the aquarium, mediated playground fights, and braided plastic lace keychains ‘til my fingers nearly fell off. But when I get on an airplane, all positive memories of minors go out the window. Distraught or happy, kids in the air are loud as f*ck, and more often than not, their parents are too busy ordering a third mini bottle of Sutter Home cabernet to bother with reigning them in.
That said, I’ve got a solution that may cause some waves but I’m going to throw it out there anyway: soundproof child sections on every aircraft. While we can brand it like first class for kids, I confess that this was actually inspired by Flightplan, the 2005 thriller in which Jodi Foster wakes up from a nap on her flight to realize her daughter is missing. The duration of the movie is spent searching for her while everyone onboard attempts to convince Jodi that she didn’t actually bring her daughter on the plane or that she doesn’t even have a daughter to begin with. Or something. After screaming a lot and fighting off secret agents(?), JF eventually locates her kid who is being kept in the plane’s basement. Anyway, this would be a less kidnapping-y version of that and they would be given iPads. I plan to pitch this to Mark Cuban in a matter of months so I’d recommend getting in on the ground floor.
9. The female bar bathroom dynamic is the same across oceans. I want to start by saying that this claim is substantiated by a mountain of first-hand evidence. I’ve been to more bars in the lastt few months than in all four years of college. At each, I estimate I took at least one trip to the bathroom. This empirical research supports a hypothesis I’ve been working on for some time: women are the friendliest, most supportive versions of themselves in bar bathrooms, and this transcends culture.
And that brings me to my final, bonus(!) lesson:
10. We’re all the same in that we all have our differences. Some people are nice, some people are mean; some people are religious, some aren’t; some people take cream in their coffee and some take sugar; more or less, all of these things transcend culture. That might sound cliche or perhaps too simplistic but in a time where differences in worldviews feel increasingly extreme, I find this comforting.
