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18: Got into Nice. From everything I saw the first night we got in, it was everything that Montpellier was and more. More wealth, prettier, more people and more commercialism (unfortunately). Went to the casino later that night and we both dropped a buyin+. It sucked. Otherwise went to bed at 3 AM and the vicious cycle for the next 5 nights would begin.
19-21: I didn’t keep up with the blog, got lazy. On the train I read a book called I Love You Beth Cooper. Now I don’t read much non-fiction, but this is a really good book. Recommended to anyone, a short read but funny and reminiscent. The days were mostly spent sleeping until noon. Walked around the city, eat bad food, play poker at night. The poker went pretty well. One night I put up a 4k winner in Nice. Was just silly the heater I went on, it felt pretty good. Every big draw got there, I flopped top boat on a 4-3-3 board and got 2 buyins. The rest of the sessions were drags and produced mostly .5-1 buyins. It was fun to play some live poker. Everyone played really bad, and it’s a shame you couldn’t throw these guys online and play a 2 hour session. I played poker because I was looking to make a run at Monaco, which looking back now I wish I would have done. Not a big deal though, there’s always this summer.
The hostel we stayed in wasn’t a hostel at all, more like a prison cell, and it could be contributed to our quickly deteriorating physical and mental health. There were 8 beds in a 400 square foot area. Ollie, was with us the whole time as well. This man was an interesting character. He was 39 and had been living in hostels most of his adult life. He worked seasonally in Nice. He was actually a pretty sharp guy, but he had some issues for sure. Drank every day, though not super heavily. He also talked a ton, and had some of the best hair on a male that I have ever seen. Aside from that, the room was mostly empty. There was no common area. The room was really dark. The hot water was in short supply. There was no kitchen, and no real fridge. Our quality of life compared to Barcelona and Madrid just bottomed out. We lived like homeless hobos. It was very cold out. It was not the south France I had hope for in that regard.
22: Went to Cannes mid-afternoon. Was a short 6 euro train ride there and a free one back. Another beautiful city. Cannes is extremely rich, with some of the nicest property on the Riviera. Many different spots have water, much of that being on elevated land. The sunset that night was one of the better ones that I had seen. The amount of shopping was huuuuuge. So much of it was designer as well, and mostly everyone there was in outfits costing 1k euro plus easily. Nice was the same way, but less wealthy. Actually, most of where I’ve been has been full of well-dressed people. I usually like to resist this, mostly because materialism is really dumb in my mind, and wearing x brand because it’s x brand and paying a 500% markup is a donkey-dick move. But..I suppose this is just a way of advertising yourself. Nothing is inherently wrong with looking good. It’s easy to feel out of place here without trendy threads because you are the black sheep. I’m a giant black sheep here. I don’t mind it particularly, but after 3 weeks of being the scrubby American I might give in a bit and cut the cabbage patch kid haircut I’ve got going as it’s attempting to be grown out, and dress well. Bought a pair of shoes and sweatshirt type deal so far. The issue is there are no jeans here that fit me. I mean I tried a dozen pairs or so on. My legs/ass, despite not working out in a 3 weeks will not fit into these pants. My body in general is not very European. It shows priority imo.
Anyways Cannes was cool, deathly cold rainy/windy, and the casino game was only 5/5. I went to play 5/10 and work something more up for Monaco. The latest train back was 12 something, so we just decided to go back to Nice. Soon there after the casino incident happened with me insta-spazzing on the casino manager. I would have never known I was banned, as a huffy departure ensued, but upon getting to the hostel, I realized that my backpack was still at the casino. As we were just leaving the guy came and told Bryan and I never to come back, lifetime ban. Remember here, Bryan was an innocent bystander. I asked to talk to him and hash the situation out, and through the security guards, 15 minutes later, I was told I could come back in two days and talk to him. Not right now, not tomorrow, but two days. Haha. That was the last experience there. That place was crap.
23: Hung out in Nice. Didn’t get out of the room until something like 4 PM. It was a bad day. I had been sick the last 4 days and it was getting deeply compounded by not eating, not drinking, and not having proper winter gear. We bought tickets for Paris. I’m going to Portugal after that, then moving down to Morocco. This should have been done in the first place, but at least I seemed to settle on a correct decision on what to do with my life in the process. I don’t know when I’ll be back to the States, but have decided to just fly into NYC and see the city for a couple days. It seems that as an American the biggest, arguably most important city in the world on many levels should get visited. Basically I would like to do Europe right now, but I’m sick of this weather. I’m sick of being sick. We also went out drinking this night, which was not my idea. For a Monday night, things were understandably slow. The next day my cold worsened, as might be expected with 3 hours of sleep. Chin up, no sneezing on anyone on the train please. Thanks.
Day 24: Hung out around the hotel for a while. Booked a noon time ticket to Paris. I had decided at the time that Paris would be fun, and then move up towards Amsterdam or head towards Morocco. Upon arriving we hit the metro and got to the hotel in good time. Wellll. I thought Nice was cold. Paris was absolutely brutal. Cold and wind hit me as soon as we got off the metro and this was not anything I had planned for. Made a quick trip to the hostel which was another pretty nice one. Made a Monoprix run for some sandwich stuff and got back to the hostel. My cold was not gone, and unfortunately it was getting much worse. Called it an early night and tried to get some sleep. Also met a couple cool chicks in our room who were from New Zealand/Australia. They worked recruiting for an international volunteer work program, and have been traveling the world for the past year or so. We should have some fun while they are here, both are very outgoing, do their fair share of burping, farting, etc. One might consider them to be dudes.
25: Slept a few hours. Woke up in cold sweat. In the morning I felt like being a champion and decided to tour the town. I got on all the warm clothes I had, took the metro to the area before Notre Dame and stated walking. It was a 5 hour day filled with lots of pictures and pretty sights. You can’t stop and think what a place is like in the summer, and how there are really few places in the world where you would rather it be winter then summer. A place seems more vibrant in summer is all. Maybe certain ski towns, yeah I get that. Finished up with the Eiffel Tower. It was pretty boss. By this time I had lost feeling in my hands and struggled to find a metro. Got some food in me at the hostel and proceeded to sleep 10 hours. This was the sickest I’d been since I was a kid, and contemplated going to get checked out. Battled through it though.
26: Spent most of the day lounging in the hotel. It was snowing pretty hard outside, and I had still not purchased a winter jacket. My sickness was very slowly going away
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29: London Ho! Or so I thought. As it happened, I get to the train station early in afternoon and there will be no trains from Bruxelles to London for at least the next two days. Fack. I also booked a flight back to the States in 3 days. So a trip that had once been planned to be 13 months (hahaha) has turned into barely 1. The majority of people who know me saw that coming, and while I knew I couldn’t make it that long, I thought at least 4-5 would be in order. But no. Even if I hadn’t made the choice to go back to school it would have been tough to travel for a long time. Don’t get me wrong, I love the hostel scene and the people I’ve met, but parts of my routine are tough to live without. Call me a baby, a little bitch, whatever I don’t care. I love my routine. I love eating healthy. I love driving wherever I need to be. I love having a social circle that doesn’t change every 2 days. I love my bed.
That being said, traveling was very eye-opening. I’m glad I did it, because not only did I see how people are different, I’ve seen how they are the same. People in big cities here are the same as they are in the US. In small towns, the same. Certain things are valued more then others in each place. Because of this I’ll probably watch TV a little less, and care about my appearance a little more. Granted, I’ll be in 4 countries by the time I’m done, which is not many. But it’s a good mix. 4 languages, 4 cultures 4 intricacies.
The train right now from Bruges to Bruxlles is packed. I have no idea where I’m staying once I get there, or when I’ll be able to get to London. I would much rather be in London the Bruxelles, but just maybe it will surprise me. I’ll be in London plenty of times before my life is done (fingers crossed).
It is snowing pretty hard out right now, and from the sounds of it this is not super normal. This area gets a lot of rain from what I’ve heard, but big snow storms might happen a couple times a year. Cool. Now that I’m not sick and have a winter jacket it’s all good.
The Brussels airport is just out of control. With eurostar shutting down, lines to even talk to someone about what’s going on are 2 hours long. I debate whether to go to the airport to just try and find a flight to London, or stay at a hostel in Brussels. I opt for the non-insane, and try and find a hostel in Brussels. Walking into the city trying to find a place it looks like I’ve died and gone to some really off-white hell. I am biased as most of the travel writing has said this about Brussels An hour of walking and I find a hostel. It’s not a good one, and given how the trip has gone, I’m in the room by myself. Bad Internet, which will hurt me later. I hang out in the hostel for a while, and then hit up the main tourist square. My views of the city are quickly changed. It might be because it’s Christmas, but this square was pretty awesome.
The hostel, meanwhile, was shit. There were probably a grand total of 10 people staying in it, 9 of which were Asian. There was one shower. There was more hair in this shower area then I have ever seen in a shower area. Very gross. Also, the hostel staff consisted of a dozen mostly older people who cleaned, cooked, etc. I’m sure they sleep there as well, and during the summer this is probably useful, but it seems like a waste to have hostel staff outnumbering people that are staying there. Also the internet was weird, and the second day I was no longer allowed to be on the internet because I was playing online poker. Of course this didnt happen the first day where I put in 4 hours, but rather the second day when I was in the middle of a 345. Damn it.
30: Walked most of the main part of the city. Overall I think my first impression of the city was only slightly flawed. As with most big cities, there are beautiful parts and there are ugly parts. Brussels get talked about a lot for the ugly parts, but the pretty parts were much prettier then I had expected. The home of the EU is in Brussels, it can’t be all bad can it? The hostel kicked me out from 10-2 to “clean”, as if I’m supposed to believe it takes 4 hours to do this when nobody is staying there. This made me see the city though, so not all bad. I walked. And walked. And walked. The business district of Brussels is very modern…just like any other big city you would see in the US. The main city square is just as pretty during the day as at night, and just as cutthroat on prices. Everything was just ridiculously expensive, I don’t know how people put up with it, but again, I’m sure this is just the tourist area where you pay 8 euro for a beer or 20 for a small plate of spaghetti. As I was walking back to my hotel I stumbled upon Casino Brussels and checked in to see if games were running. I was not allowed on the internet at the hostel, had no friends there so decided to come back and play 5/10. I put in 4 hours and wished I could have stayed, but the hostel also locked it’s doors at 1 AM, meaning it was a choice between sleep in the cold or go back. The game was the softest I had played in during the Eurotrip to date. I was insanely card dead, but played position and barreled my way to a nice little winner. Oddities about that game. The max buyin was 1k. 100BB max is small for any game I’ve seen. Individual pots are not raked. Instead, you pay a healthy 25 euro per hour. It’s steep, but I do like the idea from a game perspective. It weighs on shorter stacks and makes them play looser then they would otherwise. 95% of players play loose and play poorly. They limp every pot. They never open. They check call-draws like it’s going out of style. Hand reading in these games is disgustingly easy. Not playing deep makes leverage plays automatic and you always see people melting to second barrels. I got one three barrel in, but it usually doesn’t get that far. I barreled a dude on a two spade j9x-x-7s board and gave up in position on the river. Was set up for a pot sized shove but the river was the second worst card in the deck . He had j8, and as the night went on I think I’m glad a scare card came, because he was probably check –calling the river. After poker, paid 20 euro for a meal and walked back to the hostel in rain/snow. Now had three roommates, one of which had pink eye and looked like one of the most out of sorts people I’ve ever met.
31. One month in, two days left. Woke up to my roommate going crazy in a coughing fit. Also of note, I saw a guy getting on the train to the airport later in the day. He took a huge hit off his cigarette, had a smokers cough last for a good ten seconds and then threw up. Wipes his mouth, takes another huge puff off the cigarette like a true champion. Pwned by big tobacco. Addiction is soooooo bad. Not just drugs but addiction in general. I’m sure this guy feels like its not a big deal…it’s amazing the things you can convince yourself of when you are delusional. This happened to me a lot when I was smoking pot every day. It’s not a big deal. It’s normal. EHHHH. Wrong. Being able to convince yourself that your shortcomings are not really shortcomings is dangerous. Being able to take a third party view and really evaluate things is so much healthier.
Anyways, I make a little side note..Pack up my back for the second to last time. It’s going to be nice not being homeless, which I feel like I’ve been for the last 7 months. Since leaving Reno nothing has felt like a real “home”. Vegas was awful. My home was good, but at this age being home is not really home, but more like reminiscing and temporarily enjoying how good life used to be. As I spend more time along, reminiscing becomes a popular inner monologue, and I can guarantee that it’s not healthy. ONLY LOOKING FORWARD. Stop looking back.
London…The trip home…filling in days…20 hours in airport there will be a lot to say.

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