Ask! Don't Go Loco...Go Local!

A local 'lady' I encountered in Lisbon.  Not much help with directions, though! (source - author)

Anyone who has travelled to a foreign country will have found themselves in one of those situations where a stressful discussion takes place, during the heat of the day at a critical moment of the trip.  This is most likely to occur when debating which direction to take, the best place to eat or to clarify if the building you are standing in front of is actually the accommodation you booked or the 4th century Etruscan relic you were aiming to visit.  The results of these discussions are always the same.  A dark cloud descends over the group as levels of frustrations rocket and the conversations become increasingly tense, where people start to say things they don't really mean or make personal remarks they didn't want to come out.  No need, people!  Naturally, you are all probably excited about witnessing the spectacular exhibits at the historical attraction on your itinerary or that beautiful secluded beach at your proposed destination, but why get stressed on what is your holiday; your break away from the daily stresses of life?

My solution is a simple one, but not the one we necessarily think of as our first option.  You just need to ASK!  Men especially, take your pride in your hands and ask a local - this is not your 'hood' and even you know you are guessing at best!  Try a few words of the language or point at a map, but make sure you go to the trouble of asking for help.  It will save you a whole load of hassle, an enormous amount of time and stop you from starting an all out war with your travel companion.  Besides, you are probably closer to your destination than you think!  Asking a local means that you are utilising a lifetime of local knowledge that will help you navigate the streets to your accommodation quickly, find that historical marvel in half the time and discover the best of a place without the bother of having to pour over the travel guides for an age.  Once you have consulted your friendly local for advice on your destination, whether that be on the streets, in a bar or in your hostel, you will wonder why you did not do it sooner!

Obviously, please approach your local with caution, particularly if you are a solo female traveller in a place you are not familiar with.  For example, in trying to find the street where my accommodation was located in Lisbon, I selected  my local carefully...I plumped for a wealthy looking elderly Lisboeta who was traversing the main city square.  I figured I could at least outpace her should she turn nasty in broad daylight and begin whacking me with her large designer handbag as a result of my poor Portuguese pronunciation.  Thankfully, this did not happen and she put me on the right track to the front door of my hostel.  Jokes aside...take care!

So ask!  It is the simple route to quick solutions to the travel problems and questions you may have about a place.  Locals know a lot, are keen to show off their place at its best and are often keen to help a bewildered traveller.  Make sure you take advantage of this.  Get on the inside track, be brave and just...ASK!

Safe travels!

The Freak Parade - Oddballs on the Road...

(Source - theatrefolk.com)



Let me tell you one truism about backpacking.  You can guarantee you are certain to meet some utter freaks on your journeys.  They are the hallmark of the budget travel experience and are bound to stick in your memory for longer than you'd hoped.  My advice?  Embrace these weirdos!  Enjoy their bizarre, off-the-wall company and savour their outlandish behaviour.  Not only will these people be fantastic for your self-esteem, they will provide you with a whole host of stories to carry with you on your journey to other like-minded people you meet and will serve as an entertaining aspect of your travels your family and friends will lap up on your return.

I could tell you about the old lady, travelling with her daughter in Bled, Slovenia; who thought it appropriate to wear the shortest nightwear going in a shared dorm room, as well as leave her false teeth in a small plastic tub on the shelf I shared with her.  Or the Belgian girl in Port Macquarie, with a rather skewed view of British eating habits, who asked my friend, if only English people ate English muffins.

Mushy was perhaps the weirdest, though.  Let me take you back to Airlie Beach, Australia - September, 2005.  A moment I remember vividly.  I was in Airlie Beach; a place that marks the jumping point for the Whitsunday Islands three day sailing trips.  On entering my hostel room, I was met by my fellow roomie, a young-ish, drink and drug addled guy who told me his name was 'Mushy'; so called thanks to his love of the hallucinogenic fungi!  I could hear the alarm bells ringing softly in my head, but thought nothing of it as he asked me about my travels so far and where I was heading to after Airlie Beach.  Mushy then went on to tell me about his life and how he had worked at a local hotel resort and was on his downtime and aiming to enjoy himself in Airlie Beach.  As I sorted out my stuff, Mushy piped up that he was a talented singer and had made the later rounds of the hit Australian show, 'Australian Idol'.  The alarm bells were ringing loudly now.  As I had already established the guy could barely speak let alone sing, I humoured him and said, "Really!  What did you sing?"  He told me he had wowed them with a performance of the Oasis hit 'Wonderwall'.  I had to see this.  I sat back on the bottom bunk and readied myself for this stellar performance.  Mushy kicked off his song, wailing the verses like a cat being strangled by an excitable pig and then come the chorus where he broke into some high energy dance moves that involved him spinning round a lot and touching the floor.  All the while, my fingernails are digging deep into the palm of my hand to stop myself from laughing.  He suddenly stopped, looked to me and gave me the 'what do you think' face, to which I replied, "You were robbed, Mushy!"  He kindly offered me some 'shrooms.  I politely declined, made an excuse and got the hell out of there.  I returned after an hour or so to find Mushy had, thankfully, taken his talents elsewhere and that an Aussie and Dutch man had turned up in the room.  We chatted for a bit and I then went out to meet some people I had met earlier on my trip up the Australian east coast.  The next morning I woke up with a start to hear the Aussie guy, from the bunk above the now departed Mushy, yelp, "Aw, shit!"  I got up to find him looking at his feet and back at the floor.  "F***ing *****!"  While everyone was out enjoying the nightlife in Airlie Beach, Mushy had clearly decided to have a night in to clip his toenails.  And, rather than clear them up like any normal person, he thought it best to leave the clippings on the floor where they fell...for everyone else to tread on!  Freak!

Maybe it was the place, but on returning to that very same hostel three days later, I was accosted by a young South Korean guy who leapt out of his bunk to photograph me.  So, so strange!  But, that's travel for you.  I urge you to expect the unexpected and, most of all, enjoy it!