Where the Hell is Matt? (and why the Hell didn’t I think of this first?)

Read this article on RoadJunky at http://www.roadjunky.com/article/1799/travel-the-world-for-a-dance


So, you thought being a travel writer was the best way to travel the world? Guess again. Maybe a job as a UN ambassador? Nope. How about becoming a photojournalist? An international assassin? Not a chance.

The best way to travel the world, bar none, is to develop a ridiculous dance, point your computer-geek skills at YouTube and get super lucky.

That’s how Matt Harding, a self-confessed 32-year-old deadbeat from Connecticut who used to think that all he ever wanted to do in life was make and play videogames, got to travel to some of the coolest places in the world, from Brunei to Tokyo to Namibia.
It all started in 2003 when he quit his job in Brisbane and decided to be a deadbeat around Asia. He did a little dance for the camera to entertain his friends back home; a few years later, the video made its way online where someone noticed it, and the dance that probably scared away all chances of Matt getting lucky in his youth made him famous.

In 2006, Matt was sponsored to take a 6-month trip to 39 countries on all 7 continents. This is the video that resulted:



He got so much positive feedback from people around the world that in 2007, he headed back to his sponsors with the idea to take a second, even bigger trip, but this time get other people to dance with him. They took the bait again:



In 2008, NASA used his video on their website, calling it Happy People Dancing on Planet Earth. And recently, one of the founders of YouTube called Matt’s videos his favourite items posted on the site.

Indeed, watching Matt do his dance on the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland, in front of Machu Picchu, or in the middle of Petra, has the incredible ability to both inspire you to travel, and annoy you that you didn’t use your own nerdy traits to such fantastic results.

Lithu - Don't- Go-There! - ania

Read this article (and get a load of the hilarious comments it received!!) on Roadjunky at http://www.roadjunky.com/article/1789/travelling-in-lithuania

The cold, dark bus hurtled through the Lithuanian countryside. I was heading to Kaunas and not looking forward to my impending homelessness at midnight.

I’d arrived in the city of Siauliai earlier that evening, hoping to stay for the night. After searching in vain for a hotel or anything else that was open, I was forced to get back on the bus without dinner or a drink.
I regretted ever leaving lovely Estonia to come to this country full of boring landscapes, unpronounceable words, cold weather, dull old towns, mediocre food, no hot men, and people who would rather scowl than speak English.

A little harsh, perhaps, but I was frustrated.

Short of closing doors right in my face - which one amber shop employee actually did - I had been made to feel more unwelcome in Lithuania than anywhere I’ve been.

If reports by Invest in Lithuania are true, and 90% of the country’s 3.4 million people speak a second language, 100% of them apparently weren’t in the mood to attempt English during the week I was there.

Everyone I spoke to, from bus drivers to hostel owners, policemen to waitresses, even the people at Tourist Info, either could not, or simply would not, try to be nice or help me. The mere sound of English seemed to infuriate them.

Now, if a Lithuanian came to Canada and expected me to speak their language, I wouldn’t be able to help in the slightest, so I don’t expect people in other countries to speak my language either.

But there is a certain level of courtesy that can be expected, and two instances, in the middle of the general unpleasantness, particularly infuriated me:

1. A hostel owner in Vilnius pleaded ignorance when a group of us complained about the drunken local man passed out in our room, an empty bottle of vodka dangling from his hand and the smell enough to intoxicate us all while we slept. It was an ironic turn of events, seeing as the first thing I'd noticed in the creepy hostel was the sign stating that no drunkenness would be tolerated. Local drunkenness, I guess, was acceptable.

2. A waitress in Klaipeda looked the other way when a homeless man began to shout at me and other patrons, leaving us to fend for ourselves while he frothed anti-Americanism at the mouth. It was the first time I’ve actually feared I might be attacked by a madman while the rest of the town stands around and watches.

An English woman I met in Vilnius said she’d encountered the same rudeness, but she was a little more understanding than I.

“Lithuania has had mass emigration over the past few years,” she said. “Something like 10% of their population has moved away. Maybe all of the people who care to speak English have gone West.”

Before getting there, I’d have been prepared to give them the benefit of the doubt. In fact, I’d been more than prepared to love it.

I had been staring at my European map one day, feeling uninspired after having visited most of the countries already, when I spotted the Baltics and was intrigued. I barely knew a thing about the area. I loved the originality of it.

Lithuania does, after all, have a few things going for it. It’s an EU country and a NATO member. It was the first ex-Soviet country to declare independence in 1990, and it currently has low unemployment and one of the fastest-growing economies in Europe. It has 100 kilometres of coastline, rivers, forests, and the highest quality of life in the Baltics.

But no matter how many positive attributes a country has, it’s the people who make the biggest impression.

And frankly, Lithuanians dropped the ball.

Three thousand hours into the cold bus ride, I was pissed off at my guidebook for pulling a fast one on me, suggesting that Lithuania was one of the must-see gems in Europe.

Moreover, I was pissed off at myself for trying something new when I could have been in Croatia, or London; anywhere but here, barrelling through the Lithuanian night with only bad memories and my originality to keep me warm.

It's great to see as many places as possible while you’re young, but Lithuania was my last straw. I'd been everywhere that was worth going, and it was time to either switch continents, or stop my European tourism promiscuity and settle on a favourite.

‘I won’t make this mistake again’, I vowed, still 100 kilometres from Kaunas. ‘That is, if I ever get the chance to do anything other than sit on this bus.’

Afterward:

When I arrived in Kaunas, I immediately liked it.

My guidebook had nothing good to say about it, but I was determined to make friends with the city. I loved the surreally beautiful church on the horizon of the long pedestrian street, the cute shops and restaurants, and the quietness of the Sunday afternoon that I spent kicking autumn leaves around the cobblestones.
I finally felt at peace with Lithuania. Maybe I’d been too hard on it? I was ready to forgive and forget.
At 6pm, before catching a cab to the airport, I returned to the hotel to collect my backpack from behind the owner's desk - after making clear to the owner that morning that I was leaving my backpack behind his desk and would be back to collect it at 6pm - and I found the place locked and dark.

I banged on the window and nearly smashed it. I phoned, I yelled, I rang the doorbell.

No answer.

When I went to the police station to file a report they stared blankly at me, not able to offer a single consolatory word of English, not even a “sorry, you’re screwed”.

Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I should have learned Lithuanian before I went to the country in order to communicate with the locals. Maybe I’d unwittingly arrived during Act-Like-An-Asshole week.

Whatever the reason, after all of the great travels I’ve had in other parts of the continent and the great people that I’ve met, I can’t personally recommend Lithuania to anyone.

Unless they want to go to Kaunas and pick up my backpack.

10 Tips for the Single Female Traveller

Read this article at RoadJunky (and look at the comments section for proof that I now have the Lithuanian mob after me!) at http://www.roadjunky.com/article/1782/10-tips-for-the-single-female-traveller


Ladies: don’t be afraid to leave your friends behind and travel alone. There are so many people wanting to help us, waiting to be our personal tour guide (read: sexy men waiting to be our next foreign fling).

Here are ten tips I’ve learned after years of solo travel.


1. Leave your beauty tools at home (most of them, anyway)


The water quality on the road, plus your cheap bottles of shampoo, will have your hair in a state that no dryer or straightener will help; put it into a ponytail and forget about it. You’ll occasionally meet someone who has that stuff for you to borrow, or just go nuts in department stores where you can sample everything for free. But there is one item that you don’t want to forget: a foot file. Your feet get into a real mess when you spend all day walking, especially in sandals, and cracked feet are not only unsightly, they can get really painful. Your heels are not meant to have black crevices in them, so take a few minutes in the shower every day to sort them out.


2. Leave the games at home too

Playing hard to get, not sleeping with someone on the first date, waiting three days to call… all of that crap is irrelevant on the road. You’ve got a short time to get to know someone so show them who you are right away. And if they don’t like it, guess what? By the time you get to the next city, you’re already over them and on to the next Aussie backpacker you meet. Because getting hung up on one person while travelling is not only silly, it’s near-impossible because there are just so many other exciting people kicking around.




3. Tampons are a privilege, not a right

Imagine yourself squatting over a hole in the ground in the middle of a Moroccan medina (because toilet seats, for that matter, are also a privilege), with the dreadful realization that you’ve started your period and there’s not even toilet paper to help you out. You then have to use hand gestures to describe to the shop owner what you need because you don’t know the Arabic or French words for tampon. And then, if you actually find somewhere that sells them, you’ll pay more than you ever wanted to spend on Tampax because they’re imported. Bring a supply from home and save yourself the trouble.


4. Friendliness can be misconstrued

You’re travelling, you’re in a great mood, you want to meet as many people as you can, especially locals. So when a local chef invites you back to his house for a home-cooked meal, you are psyched about the great story this unique experience will make. But the local chef bringing a naive tourist home isn’t thinking about it in the same way. Most times, you can make friends with local guys without any problems. Just don’t get complacent with your safety. It’s a sad but true fact that men in other countries might not have the same respect for a foreigner that they do for one of their own.



5. Don’t go to Lithuania

Just don’t go, it’s awful.

That goes for male travellers too.

6. Don’t travel with a boyfriend

I’m sure if you have a great relationship, travelling together could be a significant experience that both of you will cherish forever, etc. Personally, I cherish picking up strangers in different cities, switching travel companions whenever I want, and not having to sleep next to a snoring drunk guy every night. I once travelled with a boyfriend for three months. All the bickering, the jealousy, the morning sex when I wasn’t in the mood, plus it’s difficult to make new friends because no one wants to hang out with a couple … if you like doing it, more power to you. I’ll pass.

7. Travel with a Boy Friend

When you’re not dating them, guys are great to travel with. They don’t take long to get ready in the morning, they’re happy to sit and drink beer all afternoon if you’re in the mood, plus they usually offer to carry your heavy bags up the stairs.




8. Indulge yourself occasionally

Part of what’s great about independent travel is roughing it, letting yourself be feral, not adhering to the regular expectations of femininty. I get it. But spending the night in a hotel room watching tv and using the little soaps, or going to a spa for a facial, or even just taking yourself out for a nice meal rather than a kebab on the street is nice once in a while and you’ll feel re-charged. And don’t worry too much about money. You’re not going to remember the cost of the sauna you visited in Estonia; you will remember how good it felt to beat yourself silly with a birch stick while you were there.




9. Bring a journal

Your journal makes a great companion when you’re travelling alone. It joins you for dinner, sits on the beach with you, and entertains you with exciting memories on long journeys. And it really gives a shit about the little details of your day, unlike your friends back home. So tell your journal all about the delicious club sandwich you had for lunch and spare your friends the boring stories.



10. Being alone is a choice

Having lunch alone recently in Copenhagen, three older English women kept smiling sadly at me.
‘That poor girl is all by herself,’ one of them said, apparently forgetting that alone doesn’t mean deaf.
‘Oh, I’m sure the rest of her party is back at the hotel. She’s probably meeting up with them later,’ her friend said, and they all seemed reassured.
As I finished my hamburger and drank my beer, I realized that a lot of people still find it amazing that anyone, especially young women, travel alone. They are the people who have never experienced the complete immunity from inane conversation, or the daydreams that accompany long walks, or the freedom to do whatever you want and be whomever you like.
They don’t realize that a woman eating lunch alone is not someone to feel sorry for; she’s someone who, if she gets lonely, can find a companion in two minutes back at the hostel, but would much rather spend two hours enjoying lunch without worrying about anyone else’s itinerary.

Lithuania: A Fate Worse Than Serbia

Hello, dammit, from the same interminable day.

Lithuania has sunk even lower in my estimation since my last entry. If that's even possible.

This is a country full of boring landscapes, unpronounceable words, cold weather, dull old towns, mediocre food and people who would rather scowl than smile. 90% apparently don't know how to say Hello to foreigners, and 100% find the mere sound of English infuriating.

The ride to Siauliai took four hours. I got there and figured I might have to head all the way to Kaunas tonight as Siauliai looked pretty small and shitty with no hotels around. But I wanted to see the Hill of Crosses first, and I'd figure it out later.

I caught the bus at 15:40 to the Hill of Crosses (pissed off, once again, at the horrible Tourist Info bitch who looked annoyed at the mere notion that she might try to attempt speaking English).

The bus let me off 2km from the Hill so I walked there.

It was just okay.

(Certainly not worth the full day of travel that I spent getting there!)

I spoke to a little lamb (the nicest being I've met since I've been here), and caught the bus back to Siauliai centre.

I tried my best to find a hotel as all I really wanted was to treat myself to a nice bed rather than a pod, have a nice dinner and several drinks and end this awful day.

But the 2 hotels I found didn't appear to actually function anymore, so I had no choice but to catch the bus to Kaunas, which I'm on now, armed with a disgusting kebab and a beer.


This experience has really got me thinking.

I, who spout the advantages of solo travel at any given opportunity, have realized that travelling alone is only a good thing when you're in a place you love. The location becomes your friend, and happiness with your surroundings fills the space of companionship. You're happy to be alone with your place, so no one can distract you from admiring it.

But when you're somewhere that you hate, like I am right now, being alone just makes you angry. And anger needs to be laughed at.

In my previously darkest hour of travelling, on the million-hour bus ride into Nis, I had Mike with me and we laughed about it together.

But laughing when you're miserable AND alone makes you something completely different: a crazy person. Lithuania has not only turned me into a bored, miserable and angry person, but now it's also made me into a crazy person. And the worst part about it: I'm STILL HERE!

It's a funny thing, travelling. You feel the need to see as many new parts of the world as possible. You want to add to your list of places you've been, add another pin into the map. You want to one-up people at dinner parties, so that when your friend Alice says: "I had this amazing massage in Hungary!", you can come back with: "Oh, let me tell you about the most AMAZING spa I went to in Finland!".

Young travellers like myself should take a good, hard look at our elders and notice that they no longer hop from country to country every year. For the most part, they've left their tourism promiscuity behind, chosen a few places they like, and stuck with them.


It makes sense, of course, to see as many places as you can while you're young, because youth is all about experimenting, finding out what you like and what you don't, blah blah blah.

But when you get to the point, like I have, when you're hurtling through the barren Lithuanian countryside and you've spent a total of 6 hours on a bus just to spend 45 minutes looking at a bunch of wooden crosses on a hill, it's time to re-evaluate your travel decisions.

I'm now officially out of places to visit in Europe.

Unless I want to go to Moldova or Luxembourg, which I don't, I need to either leave the continent, or choose my favourite place and stick with it.

And that's possibly what hurts the most about this trip: the fact that I could be in Croatia right now. I love it there. I lvoe the food, the people, the sea, the language, the music, the men, the gemist.

But it was the thought of changing my Facebook status, for the 5th time this year, to "Andrea is off to Croatia!", felt a little embarrassing. I'm supposed to be this world traveller, after all, I figured I can't keep going back to the same place time after time.


But guess what: YES I FUCKING CAN!!

In fact, this experience is probably Croatia sending me bad vibes from down the continent for thinking I might enjoy another country.

Something, somewhere, has it out for me. Surely, it can't be Lithuania itself: we've only just met What did I do to make enemies with it so quickly?

I don't think I've ever given Lithuania a moment's thought before this trip, much like most other sane people along the backpacker trail.

And now I realize there's a reason for that.

It's a squalid rathole and the only people who wind up here are people like me with pretentious notions of trying something new, wanting to be different and original, smugly saying the words "Latvia" and "Lithuania" and watching people's eyes widen in admiration, thinking I'm the bravest and coolest girl in the world.

Now, I've spent the entire day on a cold, slow bus to Kaunas.

Tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be freezing to death, attacked by a crazy man in the street, with a case of the runs from the kebab I had for dinner. At least I'll have my originality to keep me warm.

The Balkans Rule - the Baltics DROOL!

I've officially decided that the whole "Seeing the World" thing is totally overrated. Screw it... from now on, I'm going no further than the Balkans where, above all its other amazing attributes, THE PEOPLE ARE FRIENDLY!!

I'm on the bus getting the Hell out of Vilnius, and not a moment too soon! How I regret leaving sweet Estonia with its saunas and nice old towns and good dancers! I'm hoping that Lithuania will redeem itself over the next two days when I'm out of its truly shit capital!

Last night, my dinner was pretty good. I had pork, mashed potatoes, brocooli and carrots, all kind of mixed up in a stew-type mess (yummy, though), and 2 half beers, and read my Salman Rushdie book. I left the restaurant at 8:30 and walked through the creepy streets, kinda wanting to go into a bar for a drink and a chat. But the bars were full of people sitting in closed little groups, totally intimidating, and even when I stopped at The Dubliner pub and asked two English guys for a lighter, they just lit my cigarette and turned away. I got a little lost for a while and decided being in bed (sorry, being in pod) at 9:30 was better than dying a creepy death in Vilnius. It's the only place I've been in where the thought actually crossed my mind more than once that if I was being mauled by one of its creepy street urchins, the whole town would probably stand around and watch!

When I got back to the hostel, the VERY weird American guy who seems to live there was hanging around being weird, and then a couple of girls came downstairs and told the reception lady that there was an old drunk man passed out in their room. I just knew it had to be my room, and sure enough, I went upstairs and on the couch, right beside my pod, there was an old guy, sprawled in a drunken stupor with a bottle of vodka below him. The American tried like a fool to communicate with him, and then the reception lady started speaking in Lithuanian to him, and told us not to worry, he'd just go to sleep and not bother us. It was an ironic turn of events, seeing as the first thing I noticed when I got into the hostel was the sign saying drunk people would be kicked out immediately.

I wanted to go to the bus station to catch the sooner bus the Hell out of Vilnius, and I wished I hadn't already paid so I could pull a runner the way Christina and I did in the Nazi hostel in Sibiu.

There was one other guy in our room; an Aussie who has been living in Japan for a few years. He and I started chatting and went down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and chat. He was a nice guy, but we never got past the "I want to talk all about my travels" level of conversation that dear Michael Ruhfus identified in some solo travllers.

At 11:30, I went out for a final smoke, checked my email, and went to pod. As weird as the pod is, I had a nice sleep because the mattress and pillows were very comfortable. I guess I'm all for the pod revolution!

This morning, I got up at 10:00 and scurried out of the hostel. I'd wanted to go to the KGB museum before I left, plus buy Mom an amber gift, but the bus station was close and I was more than ready to leave.

The ticket desk woman at the bus station and the information woman were both horrible, rude bitches who kept trying to shuffle me to someone else so they didn't have to listen to my offensive English. I actually had to get a bit snarky with them to make them sell me a ticket. Finally, I was able to buy a ticket to Siauliai, and I got out!

I'm now 3 1/2 hours into a bus ride that Lonely Planet had promised only took a little over an hour. Fucking Lonely Planet has really pulled a fast one on me!

Vilnius Creepiness

I was expecting to be blown-away by Vilnius, but so far I haven't seen anything that compares to the beauty of Tallinn (but, to be fair, I've only been here for a couple of hours, so I'll reserve judgment for now).

The bus ride from Riga to Vilnius was a painless 4 hours (I had my raspberries and my mobile phone games to occupy me). When I arrived, I got a little lost finding my way from the bus station to the AAA hostel. The hostel had a pretty creepy feel right away, made even creepier when I found out that the rooms were made up of pods! I'm sleeping in a pod tonight ...

Lithuania, thus far, is just creepy (and it doesn't help that some nutcase has been chanting and screaming outside this restaurant for the past 10 minutes).

I dropped my backpack in my pod and then headed straight out. It was a bit of a long and dodgy walk to the old town, and then I found the streets even emptier and quieter than Tallinn had been. (SHIT, the crazy man has made his way into the restaurant and is headed in my direction ... get me out of here!).

Anyway, I wandered into a few amber shops (the Baltics are amber-central and I'm going to buy something for Mom tomorrow). I stupidly sat at an outdoor cafe for a caffe-latte and it, and my limbs, got cold before I could even finish a cigarette.

I then walked along the pedestrian street to a big square full of giant white buildings. I took a few photos but it started to rain, which lent an even creepier ambiance to the place. So I headed back along side streets, went to explore a graffiti-filled,, run-down area by a little stream but noticed a group of intimidating-looking goth kids just in the nick of time and headed straight back to the touristy part of town.

I'd wanted to see the KGB headquarters (wouldn't that make a perfect end to this day!?) but I'm hating it here and I want to leave. I'm going to stay out for a couple of drinks and dinner, then go straight back to the hostel, and tomorrow afternoon I'm getting the Hell out of Vilnius!

I thought this would be my favourite of the 3 Baltic capitals ... now I'm wondering if the movie "Hostel" is based on true events that took place here!

Talk to you later (I hope!)

Working up a sweat in Tartu

Hi from still in Estonia, just a little further South (closer to Latvia).

I had a really good sleep last night; there was an American guy in my room but we didn't really speak until just as he was heading out for a drink. I kinda wished I'd gone out with him because I wouldn't have minded a little company, but it's probably a good thing I didn't as I needed some rest.

I woke up this morning at 11:00, starving and dehydrated and, for lack of an immediately better option, I had a McChicken for breakfast. The McDonalds was right beside the vine-covered town walls: pretty nice location.

It was miserably cold and rainy so I decided to get out of dodge. I planned to go to Riga, but the next bus there wasn't for several hours and Tallinn was too rainy to walk around. So I decided to catch the 2:00 bus to Tartu instead.

It was a 2 1/2 hour bus ride to this little University town. I was pretty keen on having another sauna (when in Estonia...), so I decided to stay at the Alexandri Hotel, which has a spa attached to it! It was a bit of a hike away from the centre of town, so apart from the road heading towards it to it, I didn't see much of Tartu!

I got a nice room with a television, but didn't stay in it for long as I ended up booking a sauna right away (I was a bit gutted that the massages were all booked up for the day, as they were very cheap!).

I stopped into the adjoining restaurant, had a quick beer, then headed to the spa. It was actually a solarium rather than a sauna; apparently it's less hot but is supposed to make you sweat more and lose 600 calories. I sat in it for a half hour and thought I was going to spontaneously combust from the heat. I don't know if I lost 600 calories, but I probably sweated 600 gallons!

I ate dinner at the hotel restaurant (the Alexandri sure was a one-stop shop!), and thoroughly enjoyed my steak with mushroom sauce, potatoes and coleslaw, and red wine. I was happy to learn that an Estonian band would be playing later in the night, and just as I finished dinner, they took the stage.

There was a guy sitting a few booths behind me who I kept making eye contact with; a few songs into the band's set, he finally came over and invited me to sit with him. His name is Andras, he's from the town of Parnu, and he proved to be a great companion. He told me that all private houses in Estonia have their own saunas, he talked about Russia and about ice-fishing in Norway.

We had a few beers, a few cigarettes in the smoking room, and then - the piece de resistance! -we asked me to dance. He was probably the best partner I've ever danced with, and we had a grand old time out on the floor. When we sat down again, he serenaded me with an Estonian version of the song "Country Roads."

Tartu ended up being a real highlight of my trip (well, at least its hotel did!)

Hi from Estonia

Where the Hell are you? you ask.



Why am I not in Croatia, or the former Yugoslavia in general?


Well, I've decided to give my beloved Balkans a rest and try something new.


Last week, I was staring at my wall map and feeling uninspired because I've been to all of the most obvious places. I noticed the little Baltics, and suddenly this region, that I've never really heard much about, seemed like just the right choice!


I have five days and I plan to see Estonia, Lithuania and possibly Latvia (although I've heard Riga is Stag-Party-Hell).


Last night, I lay in bed for about three hours, not really sleeping at all, and caught a bus from Peckham to Victoria at 2:30am. I was horrendously early to the bus stop, and had to wait about 40 minutes before the good ol' Easybus arrived (40 minutes that would've been much happier spent in bed, or at least in a pub). But I got to Stansted in good time and wandered around for an hour before boarding the plane. I caught a few zzz's during the 2 1/2 hour flight.


I had two shocks when I arrived at the Tallinn airport.


1. I checked my email (what a concept: free Internet at the airport!!) and Pedro had sent me an email from home! It's always a (nice) shock to hear from him!

2. I had no money left in my account! I realized that I never stopped this months' rent payment from coming out of my account and it totally depleted me. Thankfully, I was able to switch some money from my savings account to my chequing (thanks again to free airport Internet and online banking!) so a crisis was averted. I'm counting my lucky stars that I'm a good saver, or else my time in Estonia would've been slightly more stressful than I'd hoped!


After I sorted out my money, I hopped on the bus to the centre of Tallinn. I strolled around for a bit, the spires in the distance reminding me of Varazdin, and was totally impressed (and still a little shocked that I'm here). Lots of little curvy streets, colourful buildings similar to Sighisoara, super old buildings and shops... the perfect old town!


I hadn't booked anything so I was happy to find Euro Hostel, a dive but it's right in the old town so I can't complain. After checking in, I walked nextdoor, ate 3/4 of a bacon/cheese pancake (apparently Estonia is known for its pancakes) and was stuffed to the brim.

I digested with a nice caffe latte at "The Best Cafe in Tallinn" (with a sign on its door to prove it, and I was in no position to argue).


Spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the gorgeous old town. I went up to Toompea (upper old town) and saw the Russian Orthodox Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, which is amazing. I had a look out from two look-out points up there, took some photos (I'm becoming a pro at the self-portrait and timer function on my camera!), then wandered around the lower old town for a bit.

I was feeling really sleepy but decided that 5:30 was a bit early for bedtime, and I knew exactly where to go next ... the sauna! Estonians (being so close to Finland), are known for loving a good sauna, so I ventured to the Kalma Saun (the oldest one in town). It was awesome, even though I had no idea what to do half the time. I watched the other women and took my cue from them, including to take all of my clothes off and go naked (when in Estonia ...). I sat in the boiling hot sauna (furnace is more accurate), took dips in the refreshing pool, stood under the cold shower, and watched three naked women beat themselves silly with a birch stick.


All in all, a fantastic way to spend two hours!


I'm having one beer at The Best Cafe, then I'm off to bed for a well-earned sleep.

The Happiest Place on Earth

Read this article on EuropeUpClose at http://www.europeupclose.com/visit-a-happy-place-copenhagen-denmark/
and on the St. Christopher's Inn website: http://www.st-christophers.co.uk/backpacker-resources/travel-stories/denmark/the-happiest-place-on-earth

This year, when trying to beat the winter blahs, forget Florida and instead plan a trip to the real Happiest Place on Earth.

For three years in a row, the World Values Survey has bestowed that title on Denmark.

The elaborate survey, conducted over a number of years in countries all around the world, takes into consideration factors such as education, health and welfare.

One major reason for Denmark’s prosperity is that its taxes are sky-high, but the government, in return, takes care of all health care and education, making for a stable and comfortable social care system.

If being the happiest place on Earth isn’t enough, Denmark also ranks as the world’s least corrupt country, the second most peaceful country, and it has the highest level of income equality. Furthermore, it was the first country to legalize pornography and to grant same-sex couples nearly all of the rights of marriage.

The Danes have it pretty good.

But does any of that happiness and goodwill rub off on its tourists?

During my first four hours in the country, I didn’t think so.

The country is bigger and harder to get around then I had imagined, so while grabbing a cheap flight into a nowhere-town such as Billund originally seemed like a good idea, I spent much longer than planned on buses and trains trying to get to Copenhagen.

But as soon as I got my first look at the charming capital, the happiness started to seep in.

Copenhagen’s attractions are pleasantly wholesome, beginning with the city’s most famous icon, The Little Mermaid.

It dates back to 1913 and was inspired by a ballet about the fairy tale. It has become famous over the years for being vandalized, having her head cut off twice and being covered in paint several times.

The Little Mermaid is a surprisingly little statue - less than 2 metres high - out on a rock in the harbour. Without the swarm of snap-happy tourists, it would be hard to spot.


Most locals will advise skipping it entirely, but it’s an inevitable must-see and the statue - or just the fact that you walked for ages to see it - is bound to make you chuckle.

Strolling through the different boroughs of Copenhagen, recently named the World’s Most Liveable City, or riding a bicycle as most locals do, brings all sorts of surprising delights.

Grab a hot dog from one of the many vendors to save money, shop in Osterbro, visit the ethnically-diverse Norrebro, visit one of the many museums and galleries, marvel at palaces and churches in Frederiksstaden, play in the gardens of Rosenberg Castle, or visit the self-governing hippie commune in Christiania.
Copenhagen is a perfect place to wander because there is something new around every corner.

On a sunny afternoon, one of the best places to hang out is on the harbour in the Nyhavn area. Singers line the street, playing for people sitting at outdoor cafés and eating Denmark’s specialty: open-faced sandwiches called smorrebrod.

Locals and tourists sit along the harbour with cans of beer, watching boats glide by against the backdrop of vibrantly colourful houses across the water.

Choose a sound you like and a restaurant to go along with it, and you’ll probably end up spending more time than you planned there.

The perfect end to any day is a visit to Tivoli Gardens. Not many other cities can boast an amusement park that adds to its natural beauty, but Tivoli Gardens, dating back to 1843, is one of Copenhagen’s most beautiful sights.

There are rides, including the world’s oldest wooden roller coaster, games, twinkling lights, outdoor concerts and theatre productions.

On most nights you can catch a ballet or musical adaptation of a story by Hans Christian Andersen, Denmark’s most famous son.

A country that produced the author of so many beloved children’s stories must be a friendly place.

Denmark isn’t the cheapest place to visit. Like the rest of Scandinavia, it’s far more expensive than the rest of Europe and paying ten dollars for a beer can hurt. It’s certainly not Europe’s warmest country, it’s not known for its delicious food or beautiful beaches, and its media have recently come under international fire for their questionable sense of humour.

But there is an infectious innocence in Denmark. It is stimulating, friendly and fun, and before long you’ll understand why the locals are so happy to be there.