When I think back on our eurotrip I want to remember the hilarious ‘deaf’ problem Martha and I couldn’t escape (we got over it by Rome). I misheard at least a phrase an hour or repeated something to Martha that she’d just finished telling me. She was stuck constantly correcting the oddities I thought she’d said and shaking her head in wonder, exclaiming, “Yes I see such and such, I just pointed that out to you.”
I also must admit a perpetual clumsiness, on both our parts, during the entire 10 days. I fell up stairs and down them, tripped on even ground over nothing, lost my balance while standing still, caught my ring in my hair multiple times, and almost walked in front of fast oncoming traffic (but was literally snatched back by my trusty amie). Martha did a better job at life…she lost things and then found them, tripped a bit here and there, and she kept ‘losing’ me in crowd situations, but otherwise she was normal.
I think that when people travel they get to know one other better than they did before. Even though we’ve known each other for 5 years now, Martha learned that I am a 4 year old. Whenever I am hungry, tired, or need to use the restroom I become very pushy while at the same time being equally apathetic. I don’t care which restaurant is picked or if I’ve brushed my teeth or if one must buy merchandise to use the ‘facilities’…I MUST eat, sleep, and go potty. It’s fine when I am being the leader of the moment because I become super ‘take charge’, but poor Martha…when she was the leader and wasn’t making decisions fast enough for my 4 yr. old temperament I would become rude, bossy, and downright unpleasant. Thankfully, Martha always forgave my bad mood.
‘Sharing’ money became a bit confusing during the trip. It was inevitable that we’d let our feet dictate our daily path, thus one of us was always missing cash thanks to forgetting to find an ATM. As friends do, the one with cash would kindly take over the bills until an ATM was found. We had running ‘tabs’ with each other throughout the trip. It was quite a feat at the end to figure out who owed who for this entrance fee or that meal. To our credit, we’d taken the time each night before bed to write down all costs for the day and who paid which bills, so at the end we actually had an account of every single thing paid for. I never thought of it as a way to keep up with what we did, but looking back at the notes reminded us what we’d seen and done in ten days.
Pharmacies became a ‘thing’ on our trip and it all started in Dublin. It must have been our first or second morning in Dublin that Martha awoke to a sore throat. We visited the pharmacy to snag some lozenges and thought that would be our only non-touristy cost. Except that I ended up with the same sore throat, then Martha needed tissues, then I needed cold medicine, and then I needed ‘second skin’ for the blisters on the bottom of my feet. 5 visits to pharmacies in 10 days made us appreciate the friendly and knowledgeable staff. Taking note of the flashing green cross became second nature and a source of endless jokes.
When I traveled with Ross I resorted to buying a pair of faux suede short ‘elf’ boots (as Ross called them). Right before my trip with Martha, I noticed that I had walked almost through them. A detached, worn in heel and a palm sized hole at the ball of my foot showed proof of the tremendous amount of walking accomplished here in Europe. I thought that the boots would last through the trip. I was very wrong. By our third day of travel I was sitting down every chance I got, I had acquired an ill mood and permanent wince, and I was drooling over every shoe store we passed. Truthfully, I wanted Clark brand moccasins. However, we were around Grafton street and already late for something when I couldn’t bear the pain anymore - I HAD to have new shoes. The shops were closing and each store we roamed into seemed more expensive than the last. I was almost out of hope and ready to go barefoot all the way to O’Connell street to the Clark store when a Footlocker guy advised us to visit Korky’s for ‘booties’. Sure enough I found inside, and on sale, a pair of faux suede, faux fur lined, short boots equally as cute as the ones I had walked through. Unfortunately as I type this I have already almost walked through the new pair. The outside soles aren’t worn through but the inner ones are. Ah well, they served their purpose I suppose. I don’t know if maybe I’m buying my European shoes too cheaply (40 euros is NOT cheap to me) but they really don’t last as well as American shoes at the same price.
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