Comes, amusingly enough, from a commenter to this (somewhat stultifying) article, written by a neurotic mother, complaining about her vacation worries. He writes:
After having lived the last eight months in Vienna, mixing up both being a tourist and working here, it's pretty clear to me that Europe is a lifestyle. And the main components of that lifestyle are locomoting (via train, bike, or foot) and drinking -- not wandering around looking at old buildings.
It's a wonderful life, to be sure. You can sprinkle a couple of art galleries, a couple of castles, and the odd park or statue in the middle. But as far as being a tourist with only a week of time, Disney's got the market defined, and quite frankly, you can't escape. Anyone with grander expectations should not be making a two-week trip.
...
If you want to experience Europe, here are some tips. First, pick one place to go. Second, learn a little more than the basics of 'please' and 'thank you' in the language. This is relatively easily done with language tapes that can be played in the car during the long commutes. It opens doors that simply can't be imagined if you can describe the place that you live. The statement 'Where are you from' is something that every person around the world has in common. Third, rent an apartment and stay at least six weeks. Apartments throughout Europe are relatively cheap, you can cook at home, and save a ton of money, and then not sweat the fact that a basic meal in Europe costs as much as a deluxe meal in the States.
When you arrive at your destination, do a couple of things. Spend a day really getting to know the public transportation system by riding a bus around town. I've never been in a European city that hasn't had an all-day pass. Alternately, rent/buy/bring a bike (I'd actually recommend buying a good folding bicycle and bringing it with you.) European cities are bike-friendly in a way that will blow your mind. Even playing matador with the taxis in Granada will be way safer than riding along a road in the American countryside-- because these people love bikes, and respect them and their riders.
That first week, get to know some people. The easiest way to do this is to find a couple of cheap restaurants, and strike up some basic conversations with the owners/waitstaff. Not all will be receptive-- but if you've picked someplace in the not-so-busy part of a tourist district, and you're there filling their coffers in THEIR off-hours, they'll talk to you. When you come back once, they'll remember you and smile. When you come back twice, they'll remember your order from the last time. I practice a couple of stories that make fun of myself that I tell as icebreakers that make them feel good about their country. It works like a champ. Before I know it, I'm getting discounts on menu items, and people are chatting up my kids.
Lastly, do something that the local people do, and in the process, be nice to their old people. When we were in Granada, we went to a bullfight. Personally, I had originally found the idea of bullfighting to be kind of reprehensible. But my 10 and 7 year old wanted to go-- they kept on making (no kidding) the argument that it was important as part of the culture. So we went. The seats in a bullfighting arena are at best bleachers, and usually concrete steps. And the old lady in front of me was being exceptionally rude to start, taking more than her fair share of room. Naturally, we did not know anyone there. But we were quiet, followed the rituals through the first bull, applauded when we were supposed to. Next thing I knew, two cans of Coke were being thrust in my kids' hands by someone from above (people basically bring whole picnics to bullfights, I found out.) After that, a glass of port followed to me. Sandwiches were being passed around, and the old ladies were talking to the boys, giving them sweets. I followed with one of my standard stories, about how I chose only to come to Andalucia-- not all of Spain-- because I had heard of the friendliness of the people and the beauty of the countryside (partially true) and before I knew it, I was half-drunk waving my white handkerchief at the matador.
As long as one treats Europe like a series of experiences to be checked off (it's Tuesday, and we're supposed to be eating salami and cheese and feeling romantic, Wednesday is the Mona Lisa, etc.) Europe can't really be anything other than Disneyland. Real experiences can't be bought, and it doesn't matter how much money you have, either. It's only when you slow down, and let the possibilities present themselves that you really can have a vacation, and a real experience. Isn't that true for most of life?
Thank you Reality-based Lefty!
Comments