[I wrote this years ago, but had posted it on a site I no longer maintain; I thought it might be nice to share it with you now.]

As many of you may already know, I spent over a year total in Europe during and immediately after finishing grad school in ‘98. My experiences included an amazing mixture of triumphs, tragedies, laughter, adventure, confusion, and pretty much every other emotion one can have… but compressed in time and on foreign soil.

While I regret not keeping any semblance of a diary during my time in Europe, I still carry a wealth of knowledge and emotions in me… much of which bubbles to the surface at random times. For whatever reason, one event came to mind tonight, and it made me smile.

During my initial 3 month internship in Europe, I was dying to ‘taste’ as much of the continent as I could. My workplace was next to a train station, and nearly every other Friday I’d bring a small suitcase to work, and spin the virtual Europe-roulette-wheel (and consult the weather forecasts) to pick a travel destination for the upcoming weekend. I’d then leave straight from work, typically take an overnight train, spend Saturday and Sunday at my destination, and arrive back—sleepy eyed and exhausted—to work Monday morning.

Spontaneity and adventure sometimes gave way, however, to frustrating circumstances… including nasty weather, obnoxious hostel (and hostile) roommates, and in some cases, lack of an available nearby hostel at all. Such was the case when I arrived in Luxembourg one weekend… forcing me to scour surrounding smaller cities for lodging. When I finally discovered a hostel with vacancies in a far outlying town of the main city, I was none too thrilled to find myself alone at this hostel… except for a gaggle of giggling teenage German tourists from what turned out to be a church group outing. They ate at their reserved table for dinner within the hostel, and I ate, basically alone and lonely, by myself in another corner… understandably not wanting to butt in on a chaperoned group of young’uns.

To my annoyance, they’d occasionally look at me with eyes that seemed to mockingly ask, “What is that weird, tired looking guy doing at OUR hostel?” but aside from that, I ate in peace, and then—noting it was too early to retire for the night despite my fatigue—wandered out into the cobblestone streets to find something to do or see.

There wasn’t much. But lo and behold, before long, I heard a familiar gaggle of giggling a ways behind me, and, almost as if in a cartoon, that very same group of young kids shushed quickly when I peered back at them. Imagine my surprise then, when one of the girls broke from the pack and shyly approached me.

I decided to take a bit of this long weekend to prep for yet another overseas trip (this time to Sydney, which I really like!).

Digging into my Travel (real-space, not electronic) folder, I found a plethora of Australian bills and coins from my last trip, along with a ton of other bills and coins from nine other countries.  Eeep!  After sorting them all out, then I wondered:  how much is all of this worth?

$368.89 as it turns out.  Nice! (especially if I can find a local bank to actually change the money with little fees and decent rates, but that’s another issue).

Then I began thinking… hmm… if I prettied this spreadsheet I made and generalized it a bit, it might be useful to other folks, too!  So here it is:

Cranky Old Guy #1:  What did you do to your glasses?!
Cranky Old Guy #2:  I stepped on them.
Cranky Old Guy #1:  [a thinkify’ing pause] You’re not supposed to do that!