For me, one of the saddest days of most any trip is the day I get on the plane to come home. And the funk tends to linger for a while after. So I can appreciate this article over on BootsnAll about dealing with the end of a trip letdown. There’s some good advice over there.
If you’re planning to travel to the UK, Ireland, Australia, or New Zealand, you might think language won’t be a barrier for you. And for the most part, it won’t be – until it is.
Though, to be fair, “barrier” isn’t the best word, but you may find that there may be some confusion where you don’t expect there to be any. For example, I once asked for cream for my coffee at breakfast while staying in London. Our poor (French native) waitress was confused, but proceeded to bring me cream – clotted cream, that is. Which, if you’ve never tried it, is like butter – literally, not in a Linda Richmond of Coffee Talk way. Had it not been somewhat early in the morning, and had I not been a bit jet lagged, I would have remembered to ask for milk, rather than cream.
And then there are those words that mean something completely different than what you’re used to. There are the rather well-known ones, such as what we call a trunk of a car being known as a “boot” on the other side of the pond. Or while Americans might call an angry person “pissed,” those closer to their British roots would simply think that person had too much to drink. And please, never call it a “fanny pack” when you travel – the first word there has a whole different meaning overseas, and it’s considered a crass and offensive term as well. It’s known as a “bum bag” elsewhere. (Because rather than meaning someone without money, “bum” refers to your posterior.)
Chances are, you won’t get yourself into trouble by using American English (except if you forget to call it a bum bag). You just might have to explain yourself a bit more than you expect. It’s worth doing some checking before you head off on your trip, though, just to be on the safe side. The research doesn’t have to be a chore; you can just make it a point to watch a few movies or shows that were filmed in and make for your destination country. BBC America works wonders for this if you have it in your cable lineup.
Happy travels!
New Zealand is a shockingly expensive place to live.
I understand, intellectually, that the Kiwi dollar isn’t as strong as the US dollar. (Though these days, it’s not as big a difference as it used to be.) And yes, this is an island country, so lots of things have to be imported. And yes again, it’s not as large an economy as in the States, so things are bound to be a bit more expensive. And yes one last time, the sales tax here is already factored into prices instead of tacked on at the checkout like it is in the US. I get all that.
But holy crap, things are expensive. From food to fuel to cell phones, I’m still reeling from how much things cost here. And it doesn’t help that I’m doing the same sort of work I’d be doing back home – granted at a less senior level – and making just over half as much as I did back home.
How expensive, you may ask. Let me start with a simple bottle of Coke. Typically, a 600 ml bottle (about the same size as a 20 oz back in the States) will cost between $3 and $3.50. A half dozen eggs – over $3. A mixed drink at a bar – $13 – $15, and that’s at an average place, not a “destination” bar. I could keep going, but I’m starting to get depressed.
I know prices are going up all over, especially on milk, eggs and cheese, but my poor little heart can hardly take it. My poor little wallet can hardly take it, either…
For those who do not know, in New Zealand, they drive on the left side of the road.
When driving, or even as a passenger in a motor vehicle, this usually only trips me up when I’m not quite awake or distracted by something else. As a pedestrian, on the other hand, I have to constantly remind myself to look right, then left when crossing the street. I had never realized just how ingrained checking for traffic is in my head, until I suddenly wasn’t doing it correctly.
After one or two calls that were closer than I would like – not actually close, but still disconcerting – I’ve simply gotten into the habit of only crossing with the Walk light (which yes, I should do anyway) or with several others who clearly look like they know what they’re doing. But mostly, I stick to the Walk light, because even people who look like they know what they’re doing can be terribly wrong.
I still manage to look in the wrong direction while checking for cars once I’ve started crossing the street. I may remember at the corner, but once I’m crossing, my whole “right, then left” mantra goes out the window.
So, if you are traveling in a country where the locals drive on the other side of the road than you’re used to, remember that it affects you as a pedestrian, too, not just when you’re driving.
Several years ago, I took a (small) group tour through Devon and Cornwall in England with Back-Roads Touring Company. It was my first group tour, only four days, and part of a much longer trip through the British Isles. I was living out of a backpack, so I had tried to pack relatively light (as much as I ever do, at any rate).
Ours was a small group – a mother/daughter pair from Australia, a mother/son pair from China, an American professor, and myself. We did our sightseeing thing for most of the day, then arrived at our home base for the duration of the tour. We had some time to unpack and get settled, then we were to all meet in the hotel’s dining room for dinner together. So I got myself settled, made a couple of phone calls home, and made my way to dinner.
And everyone else had changed clothes from the day. Except me. They were all dressed up, not evening wear, but smart semi-casual. And I was still in my Teva sandals, shorts and travel shirt. (The only shoes I had were my Tevas and my hiking boots, so at least I was wearing my “nice” shoes.)
No one said a word about my attire, but I still felt like I stuck out as a slob. The next day, I made sure to change into the nicest top I brought with me and the one skirt I had before going to dinner. And when we had some free time in town, I went shopping for a dress.
So, the moral of the story? Even when on vacation, it may be the norm to dress up a bit for dinner. If you’ll be dining just amongst yourselves, whatever you and your travel companions usually do should be fine, assuming you aren’t planning to go to a formal restaurant. But if you’re dining with a group you don’t know, you may want to dress it up, just a bit.