Slightly hazy and suffering a tad from a few too many nights out, I currently find myself holed up in my room in my brand new Exeter University digs. After moving in on Sunday, my room is beginning to look a little more homely (i.e. taken on the form of a bomb site) and I’m starting to settle in nicely. The last few weeks have been a complete whirlwind so it seems bizarre that I’m finally here.

About 7 weeks ago, I began another, slightly shorter, travel adventure around Europe. This trip was not a solo feat, but something I did with a life-long friend, which made it a completely different experience to my longer trip around the Far East. Travelling with a companion really can go either way – you come back ready to tear each others’ throats out or you survive the 24hr a day company and find yourselves as close as ever. Fortunately we were the latter. Aided by a common love of cities, sightseeing and drinking in the afternoon,we had a brilliant time.

Paris was our first destination. We spent our first day seeing the sights, getting lost on the metro and eating chocolate mousse without any spoons (being cheap sods we decided plastic ones were just too far out of our price range).

The following day we reverted back to being 5 year olds and headed to Disneyland. We were quite possibly the oldest people in the park who weren’t there supervising children, but nonetheless had a fantastic time.

Next on the hit list was Amsterdam. Amsterdam: the home of rasta streets, weed on tap and stag parties galore. Well worth the trip if only to visit the house of Anne Frank, though the rest of the area was somewhat disappointing. Walking past a cafe at noon to see that someone has vomited over everything pretty much sums up what kind of place it is. Appealing?…? Hmm.

Never again.

Berlin lifted our spirits however and we spent a good 3 nights in a large hostel just on the outskirts of the central city. We took a fantastic tour with a very enthusiastic guide on our first day, seeing the Holocaust Memorial and other famous landmarks, before heading back to the hostel for what turned out to be a very heavy night. Drinks were ludicrously cheap and just because we ordered double vodkas once, the bar staff kept giving them to us…and who were we to refuse? By the time happy hour was over we were three sheets to the wind and while this was the absolute worst time to think bout booking onward hostels, this is exactly what we did.

I use the term ‘hostel’ very loosely.

What we actually booked was a campsite which required us to stay in a tent. Were we prepared for this? Well, we had no sleeping bags, roll mats, or warm clothing…so I’m pretty sure we were not.

However, at the time our conversation (or what we remember of it) went something like this:

“Camping?”

“We can just sleep in our towels!”

“Ohhh it’ll be fun!”

“Something different!”

“Absolutely. Book it!”

And so we did (and then proceeded to fall off our bar stools and throw up. Pure class.)

We spent the next two days recovering from hangovers from hell but somehow survived the 10 hour train journey to Krakow, Poland. This is a stunning place with a great square that is buzzing with life 24 hours a day. Whilst here we took a day trip to Auschwitz and Birkenau, which was incredibly hard hitting but very good regardless and spent the rest of our time lazily exploring the area and buying bread off an elderly woman on the street who we affectionately nicknamed ‘crazy lady.’

All too soon we found ourselves back on the train, heading to Prague where we had our first healthy meal of the trip. Thanks to the inexpensive nature of bread (and the fact we stole it from restaurants/bars/cafes at every opportunity) our stomachs had near enough turned into a big ball of dough. Thankfully we found a restaurant which sold side dishes of boiled vegetables to which our tums gurgled with excitement and confusion. Vegetables? What were these things? Where was the bread? The carbs? The doughy goodness? The veggies were literally inhaled by the two of us and we made a vow: ‘no more bread.’

The next morning we had breakfast provided by the hostel. Huh. Bread. Well, if it’s free bread…

Two days later, we headed to Budapest and had the worst journey of our trip. Arriving at the station, we were smug in the knowledge that it was only 6pm and so we had tonnes of time in the evening to go out. Three hours later and we were still wandering the streets trying to find our hostel. By this point it was pitch black and pouring with rain and both of us were fully prepared to burst into tears and sleep on the streets if necessary. Fortunately we got a fit of the giggles instead, whacked out the phones and made the most of Google maps. We wouldn’t survive a day in the wilderness…

Things got better from there on out. Our hostel was a small converted apartment with only 8 of us staying there and Budapest itself was stunning. We spent our days walking through never ending streets and and our nights sitting in our apartment with bottles of wine, a packet of cards and two new found friends (one of whom was an expert at cooking scrambled eggs – always a bonus!)

Vienna was similarly beautiful and Salzburg? Salzburg was cold. Very very cold. Four layers, a scarf, two pairs of socks and two blankets later… it was still cold.

Never again will I book accommodation when half the bar is already in my belly.

That being said, technically it was fun. Not in the traditional sense of the word…but fun in its own unique way. The man who ran the site was a very friendly chap who took pity and gave us blankets and even made us breakfast and a hot cuppa the following morning. Off course by then we were blue but really, can’t complain (although let’ be honest, I always will).

Our final place on our whistle stop tour of Europe was Geneva where we spent our final few days relaxing, strolling and being shooed out of shops we weren’t wealthy enough to be in. Nothing beats the feeling you get when a guy rushes through the doors to guard his store as soon as you casually look in through his rose tinted windows. In all fairness we hadn’t washed in a few days – not his usual clientèle.

We got the distinct impression that Geneva’s locals did not like us one bit. Maybe it was because on our first night we were sat in a restaurant and accidently set a napkin on fire (and promptly threw it on the floor – admittedly not our best move) or maybe because when we went to Sunday mass in the cathedral, we had no money to put in the collection…Perhaps the disparaging looks were God’s way of telling us we’re going to hell? Who knows.

From Geneva, we took the train to Lille where we spent our very last evening before catching the Eurostar the following day. Just over three weeks’ travelling (and our entire budgets), gone in a flash.

And now? Now I’m penniless, lacking vital vitamins and already wearing slightly unclean clothes. Perhaps uni is just one long, very expensive, gap year?

Apart from the work thing.

Obviously…