There's no denying it. Ever since I arrived in Europe, I can't help comparing prices here to prices in Asia. It's one of the reasons I hitchhiked from Turkey to the Netherlands, and it's the main reason I haven't been drinking so much.
When I was waiting for a ride at a highway rest stop in Germany, I paid three Euros for a liter of water. That's $4.50 for a fucking bottle of generic water. They didn't even bother with the pretense of claiming it was from some sparkling pure spring. Granted, that's an extreme example, but you get the idea. It cost $1 just to use the toilet.
I usually can't stand when people are whinging about money all the time. It's a horrible habit to have when traveling. When someone is complaining about costs and prices and how they save money by doing this, and by not doing that, their focus is not on the present moment of being somewhere new and different, and it annoys the shit out of anyone in earshot.
I never whined too much until I got to Europe. I had enough money to not have to count pennies as long as I was making at least a half-assed effort to travel on the cheap. A nice sit-down meal now and then? The occasional taxi ride? A private room here and there? No problem when meals are four dollars and shared rooms aren't much more.
Those days are long gone. I can't afford to pay $45 for a room every night. Hostels in Amsterdam – fucking bunk beds in mildewy hovels – are up to $50 a night on the weekends. I had to rearrange all of my plans, confusing the hell out of my mother and myself as I tried to find cheap places in different cities on short notice.
Yesterday in Bruges, I kept refusing my mother's suggestion that we buy a little something to share since I had a quarter loaf of bread, some cheese slices, and salami in a bag swinging off my shoulder. I was determined to make a sandwich with what I already bought to save me a few dollars.
I'm becoming a cheapskate downer and it's getting bad.
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