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…

Why is it that, when separated from something/someone/somewhere, we crave the small things that bring us closer to it? Yet, when we’re suddenly brought closer to said thing, a feeling of wanting distance comes over us?

For example, there have been a few Sundays over the course of my trip in which I’ve wanted nothing more than to head home for a couple of hours, just so I could munch my way through a big home cooked dinner with my family, followed by a nice long nap in my own bed. It’s never even felt like a homesick kind of craving, merely just one of those things I take for granted at home. Yet now, as the prospect of going home looms ever near, I feel like Sunday roasts are worth sacrificing if only I could stay away a few weeks longer.

Not wishing to cause offence of course; I have things incredibly good at home. Great friends, great family, a university placement awaiting me and lots of good times ahead I’m sure…it’s just the ‘travel bug’ hitting me in full force. Being back in Auckland is strange as most people I meet here are just beginning their trips, keen and excited, albeit a little apprehensive…and here I am, ready to fly out. It’s strange to think back to 5 months ago when my trip was first beginning. Yes I was excited…incredibly excited infact, right up until the morning of departure when nerves hit me full force, nearly knocking me off my feet. Yes i did the unthinkable, cried as I bode farewell to my brother, cried when leaving the parents at the airport and only stopped crying when I sat down with a vodka in the airport ‘Spoons (blame the parents I say!)

And now? Well, for starters, now I’ve cried enough for the next 5 years and have no tears left in me. But mainly, my fears aren’t gone…the next trip will petrify me just as much…but at least I know I can do it and more than that, I want to do it. A better way to explain it I suppose is, side stepping a little, if I do another bungy (which I plan to), I’ll still be just as terrified before the jump as I was the first time (a drop is still a drop after all)…but at least next time round, I’ll know I’ve done it before, so can do it again, forgetting all the fear and just enjoying the ride.

Last week I said my goodbyes to one of my good friends out here; a Swedish girl I’ve spent the last 2 and half months with. A chance meet on New Years Eve ended in a great friendship. This is what I’m going to miss about travelling. In two days I’ll be saying two more goodbyes; one to another good friend who has been with myself and the Sweed for a month and a half, and the next to a country I’ve loved every minute of.

I’ve spent my last week taking to the road with a friend in a little red car we as good as destroyed. The little thing wasn’t made for speed, nor was it made for the unsealed, curvy, hilly roads of the NZ coastline. We pushed it to it’s limits however and it survived the trip (although we’re thanking our lucky stars we paid a bit more for extra coverage on insurance!) It was a memorable week, if not for the gorgeous views and vast stretches of beach, then for the shacks we stayed in and the ‘compost toilets’ we were required to use (don’t ask!)

Despite a few mishaps in navigation (for which the blame was cruelly placed on me just because I was the one with the map…pfft!) we had a smooth trip and I was incredibly sad to be leaving the cows, sheep and rickety roads as we headed back into the city. I feel as though I’ve seen all I can see of NZ and yet I’m not quite ready to be saying bye bye. Of course, it’s on the list of places to return to…

I’m heading off to San Francisco next and am looking forward to a different place to explore. Thanks to my brother, I have free accomodation and this is just as well as I’ve blown my budget well out the window. They say money isn’t the key to happiness and yes, I agree. Yet, if it were not for the pennies I wouldn’t have been able to do half the things I’ve done. Yes yes, you can’t put a price on friendship and all that jazz, and yes it’s the people that have made my trip not the material things…but then you need the cash if you want to jump off a bridge or out of a plane (with the intent of surviving anyways…) and these things have made my time as much as anything free. Trust me, the money is more than neccessary. Next time round I’m going to have to actually do a bit of work (if I can remember what ‘work’ is!)

For the minute though, I’ll settle for my final lazy day in New Zealand. Was up with the sun this morning to watch the Ireland vs. Wales rugby in the local Irish pub, which was absolute chaos (unsurprsingly). Managed to start my morning with a pint though, so despite not knowing anything about rugby, I was quite happy cheering at the right moments and otherwise sitting on my bar stool in my own happy bubble. How I’ll miss this place…

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very excited to be going home. I miss my family and friends as much as anyone does out here, but I would love to head back for a week or so, see everybody, and then head off again. Already I have a large list of future destinations which, not surprisingly, I want to visit as soon as possible.

Yes I have my whole life for more exploration, but the world is a pretty big place and I need to get a head start…