A couple months ago, while I was updating my work resume, I suddenly asked myself: What am I actually proud of? I don’t give a shit about how I improved X% of a client’s operations, increased efficiency by Y, or saved Z amount of dollars for capitalistic companies that treat people as a number and data point.
So what do I care about?Enter the life resume: things that I deem important milestones for me about what I value and what has shaped me to be the “man” I am today.
LIFE EXPERIENCE
PLYS, Incorporated______________________ IL → OH → NJ → NY → Nomad
Son, Brother, Godfather, Friend, Lover, Athlete, Artist, US Citizen, Human
June, 1996 – Current
Scored 10 goals in a park district soccer game when I was 10 years old, received claps from over-competitive parents and was told that I’m a stud, thus beginning my egotistical nature and God complex
Became an IHSA All-State Tennis player in Doubles due to quitting (being cut from) the varsity soccer team, missing school dances, having no social life, and realizing that Tennis players are, on average, less athletic than other sports teams
Won a $10K Business Scholarship after building a business plan and pitching my company called “Cake & Bake”
Failed building +30 side hustles, ranging from: lemonade stands to E-Commerce, selling “friendship” and the “possibility of giving my number” to affiliate marketing, coaching Tennis to selling books, trying to build physical products to coding social media apps, and everything in between
Built and sold Crazy Men’s Dress Socks, which, after all was said and done, probably broke even due to all my failed marketing campaigns
Read +50 books on self-help, productivity, and psychology to improve my crippling anxiety about not currently being Michael Jordan or Elon Musk
Created a Mental Models life guide that is +50 pages long and is structured on a use-case basis (when I am eating, when I want to sleep, when I want to get a job, when I want to develop a new skill, etc.)
Mastered how to play Riptide, Viva La Vida, Cigarette Daydreams, and other generic white boy music (except Wonderwall) in order to be campfire-ready, impress my drunk friends, and convince pretty girls that I’m actually a cool guy
Failed at becoming a “college dropout” and ended up getting the meaningless Magna Cum Laude accolade in Finance and Marketing
Cold emailed +5K prospective employers/mentors and scheduled +200 calls/coffee chats in order to land internships and full-time offers
Skipped my graduation and booked a bus from Ohio to meet up with some mentors in NYC
Made coloring books for executives (aka Management Consulting), where I became very good at going to meetings, preparing for meetings (I can make slides very fast), presenting at meetings, taking notes that could be included in meetings, and of course, scheduling future meetings
Cut my chin open and got stitches while riding my longboard around a neighborhood (you should have seen the pebble)
Traveled around North America (US, Canada, Mexico) with 3 friends for 2 years, where we visited +40 states, worked remotely from +50 Airbnbs, visited +20 National Parks, hiked, surfed, skied, and somehow didn’t kill each other in the process
Saved from drowning by my friend, Ben, while hiking through the Narrows in Zion National Park, Utah
Gained and lost +$100K in the stock market through my own personalized investing strategy, buying shares in individual companies I believe in, leveraged ETFs in particular high-growth sectors, and speculating on cryptocurrencies
Quit my consulting job and solo traveled around Europe, Asia, and Africa for +1.5 years, visiting +45 countries
Documented my travels and thoughts through blogs, photos, and films, yielding a culmination of +100K views across all platforms
Learned how to land a backside 360 on a snowboard after many attempts of falling on my ass, praying to a Snow God I don’t believe in, and putting +150 days in on the mountains (skiing US, Canada, France, Italy, and Switzerland)
Capitalized on my privilege and learned how to be a subpar surfer, traveling to some of the best spots in the world (California, Hawaii, North Carolina, Portugal, Indonesia, Morocco)
Given the opportunity to be involved in several love stories while traveling, some that I regret, some that I cherished, and other(s) that may still be ongoing (if only someone would confirm with the other party)
Played pick-up basketball in +10 countries around the world
Hiked +3 14ers (mountains over 14K feet) in Colorado, US
Biked across the Aran Islands off the coast of Ireland
Sumitted Pen y Fan (highest peak in South Wales), Bobotov (highest peak in Montenegro), and Mount Toubkal (highest peak in North Africa)
Bungee Jumped from Maslenica Bridge (tallest point to jump from in Croatia)
Paraglided (in tandem, lame I know) over Lake Ohrid, North Macedonia
Experienced Oktoberfest (Wiesn) in Munich, Germany
Hot air ballooned in Cappadocia, Turkey
Island hopped around Hawaii, Greece, Indonesia, and Thailand
Trekked through the Sahara Desert on camel and foot with the Berbers (indigenous group of nomads) in Morocco
Marveled at some of the Wonders of the World (Grand Canyon, Colosseum, Eiffel Tower, Pyramids of Giza, Petra, etc.)
Bathed in the Dead Sea (lowest point on earth)
Designed a travel app (WIP) to revolutionize the way backpackers/nomads interact and stay in touch with their travel friends
Informed that I could be a professional dancer by +200 drunk people in my life
Repeated the exact same 3 magic tricks at parties that I learned when I was 13 years old
Notified that only 1 of 8 of my jokes land and are actually funny, but that has never stopped me from trying (quantity over quality approach)
FUTURE LIFE
Goals: Visit +100 countries in the world, retire from the working world, drop an album, get sky/scuba dive certified, be a better surfer/snowboarder, be a better friend, be a better human
After writing this out, it’s been great to look back at this to 1) Reflect and show gratitude for the life I’ve been blessed with 2) Use it as an operating model for living. If I ever come across a challenge or opportunity that would make a bullet point on this list, then I have to do it.
“Life is our resume. It is our story to tell, and the choices we make write the chapters. Can we live in a way where we look forward to looking back?”
Saying goodbye to the UK was bittersweet. I was leaving behind a girl that I was falling for, a friend who was letting me crash at his place for free, a drone that I was allowed to fly (fuck you and your permit policies, Morocco), and a country where I could order food without using google translate. But I was ready for the next step. Ready for a new continent. Ready for a new adventure. Plus, I believed my “business plans” would start in Morocco. Between my adventures, I could carve out time every day to develop my ideas, which upon looking back, was harder than if I had stayed put…but I digress. Well, one thing I was for sure not going to miss: UK prices.
Marrakech
I flew into the Marrakech, Morocco airport, about an hour’s walk from downtown…so naturally I walked the whole thing rather than pay for a taxi.
En route to my hostel, I found out that this city was one of the places where Google Maps would not be that helpful. Sometimes Maps thinks you can pass through brick walls, swim across rivers, and teleport into homes. Significantly worse than a usual street in NYC, but still not as bad as Venice with Maps, I eventually found the hostel, checked in, grabbed some dinner, and went to bed. Next day at breakfast, I sat down next to 2 Americans and a Swede, with one objective in mind: had any of them been to the coast? How was the surf?
I knew that the best season was September to March, but as it was mid-April already, I wanted to get a dirt/in-the-weeds view of the situation. Not the bird’s eye/sometimes inaccurate view that Magic Seaweed (MSW) provides. Lucky for me, the Swede just came from the coast and was a surfer. He fit the stereotype: lanky build, tan, bleach blonde, wavy-haired, free spirit, who may possibly have a minor weed addiction. Although it seems all the best surfers I know are shorthaired (Kelly Slater is bald for Christ’s sake), I still have a cognitive bias when it comes to what I view as the “surfer look.”
The Swede was a chill dude and filled me in on all the appropriate information: Yes, the surf is still manageable, but fading quickly. A lot of the traditional surf breaks are getting wind blown, the water slightly choppy, and there were still hoards of people fighting over the waves like the American masses on a Black Friday. One break in particular stuck out to me. In a town called Imsuoane, there was a right-hander that claims (or makes the case for) the longest break in Africa. If you catch it early, you could ride the wave for like 2 minutes. Say less. That morning, I formulated my plan: stay in Marrakech for a couple days, go to Essaouira (also a surf town) for 2 days, and then take another bus to Imsuoane.
With my “life admin” out of the way, I began to look around for any other miscreants who may want to hoon around Marrakech. Right at that moment, I saw 2 curly-haired, rugged, simple, yet well-dressed guys walk down for breakfast. Colored shirts slightly wrinkled as if they had slept in them from the night before (classic backpacker look), I overheard their conversation and immediately labeled them Brits, probably brothers. Turns out they were cousins, and more than happy to join the Swede/I for a little walkabout the city. The Cousins had been in Morocco for a couple days (coming from Tangier the night before) and had somehow already effortlessly assimilated into the culture. It definitely helped that one of them spoke French. For the next couple of days, we got lost in the streets of the Medina and ate our way through Marrakech – drinking heaps of mint tea, Tagine, and Couscous. I couldn’t help but notice a lot of similarities between Morocco and Turkey – the religion, the food dishes (Tagine is basically the clay pots that they love in Cappadocia), the architecture/mosques, the hustle of the people in the streets, the overall culture/way of life.
The timing was particularly special, as it was during the last few days of Ramadan. Because of this, the streets were quite empty during the day, but electric after sundown. A tradition I started was to find a cafe and order tea right around sunset – the changing from day to night with the Moroccans during Ramadan felt like I was in a live timelapse of calm to chaos. The gardens (Jardines) were also quite stunning, with my favorite being Jardin Majorelle. If colors had a smell, it would be the flowers that overflowed in a natural yet symmetrical style throughout the guided walkways and copious archways that drifted through the Jardin walls. After collecting my footage and promising to make the Reel/TikTok trend of “pretending to be in a Wes Anderson film,” I jumped on a SupraTour bus headed to Essaouira. I didn’t realize then how good I had it. Unlike the main bus company in Morocco (CTM), Supratours have strong AC in their vehicles.
Essaouira
My days in Essaouira were a time of impatient waiting before the storm. Upon arriving, I immediately realized that this Greek-like, blue-and-white town was a kite surfing spot, and the waves were too small to do any traditional surfing at this time of year. Cursing the mudbloods that are kitesurfers, but at the same time secretly wishing I could override my cheapskate nature and pay for lessons, I ended up enviously watching these “wannabe” surfers on their devices. It was nice to feel the sand under my feet, the salt water smell, and the coastal wind that makes you want a hoodie on a +30 C day.
Reflecting on my goals, I realized this was a perfect time to make some headway on my ideas. So where am I at? I’m a little under 3 years of being a nomad, +1 year of quitting the job and not working, and coming to the realization that the longer I stay abroad, the more I don’t ever want to work again. Yes, I miss my friends and family, but I owe it to them to “live my best possible life.” To figure out how to live a bold life and do “epic shit.” At this point, I still don’t know what that fully means. Should I go back to my friends in the States and live out that “Friends” “How I Met Your Mother” time of my life? Or continuing burning cash in the outwardly flashy, but often lonely road of solo travel? And what should I do with the “burning cash” situation?” I have some offers to work remotely for “the man” aka companies, but is that me “selling out?” Will I never be able to indefinitely break free from the 9-5 life? With all these questions, it seems a project for me could be to build something of my own, around a topic that I genuinely love. I know I like to travel, so I decided to build out a customer journey of the typical traveler, to see if there were any gaps in the current market solutions. This resulted in building a PowerPoint deck on the current landscape of the travel market, what I viewed as current gaps, opportunities within the gaps, and constraints within the opportunities. Can take the boy out of consulting, but not the consulting out of the boy. But the keyword in all of this is boy. I still feel like one, and as such, could only think about getting to Imsuoane as quickly as possible to catch some of the last good waves of the season.
Imsuoane
I needed some preparation though. Turns out, in a lot of Morocco surf towns, there are no ATMs. And there were no traditional busses going from Essaouira to Imsuoane. After asking around, I learned of a “Soup to Souk” shuttle that takes the route and booked it for the next day. Getting into Imsuoane before sunset, I immediately dropped off my shit in the hostel and headed to the nearest surf shop. Within the hour, I was out on one of Imsuoane’s 2 breaks, this one called “The Cathedral.” And boy did it feel like one. The erosion of the beach over time had created a cliff. Restaurants and surf shops overlooking the ocean, and rocky steps down the cliff led to the paddle-out spots. As it was high tide, the “beach” was basically nonexistent and I entered the water directly from the rocks. Finding the channels to paddle out was quite seamless and, once beyond the break, I took a moment to soak in my surroundings. Wow, I’m in another country, another continent, surfing again.
Now, something to clarify: I have not and I do not call myself a surfer, but a surf advocate. A passionate seeker and willful student I am, but I have lacked the consistency, drive, and skill of what I deem to be classified as a “surfer.” I one day would love to call myself a surfer, but want to know that I have earned that title before I’ve bestowed myself it. In my journey, however, I have been very privileged to be out in the water of some top-tier spots (California, Hawaii, Portugal, Indonesia) and as always, love to analyze the particular breaks and unique nuances within my surroundings.
Cathedral was no different. With the aforementioned cliff and restaurant perched on top of it, I felt as if I was a modern-day gladiator in an arena, with people viewing/cheering from the nosebleeds. And yet the waves in front of me and the need to paddle kept me fully occupied at times. It’s this juxtaposition that I think is special with surfing: the desire to be alone and one with nature, yet still at the same time to perform and show off to one’s friends. I also love the hunt. The hunt for the proper wave, the correct takeoff timing, the thrill of my (incredibly small, but riveting) drop-in, where you feel light as a feather. And then the knowledge that even if/when you catch the wave, you know the feeling is temporary. No matter, there will always be another wave.
Salt-watered hair still dripping over my tangerine-colored trunks, sunburnt, eyes red, smiling from ear to ear, I made my way back to the hostel. Here I met some future friends – a German, a Swiss, and a Pole. These guys had been in Imsuoane for the past 6 weeks, living and breathing the surf life. Talking with them and the Moroccans running the hostel, I learned a lot about the 2 breaks (Cathedral and the Bay) and how much I had missed out on over the past month. The break I had surfed that day could become more than 4X the current size. The other break (the Bay) was the long right-hander, reef break that was currently pretty mellow in size, but could have some final good days before the season was officially a wash. I was obsessed with how they talked about everything surf. It seemed every conversation went back to a previous or current day out on the water. Here was a paradise, a bubble, in a little shitty town that really doesn’t have anything going for it, except the waves. But that was all that mattered. It protected us from the world news, from previous relationships, from our quarter-life crises. Like an alcoholic looking for his next drink, like a serial killer looking for his next victim, like a mother looking for her child, all that mattered was catching that next wave.
I awoke the next day to find the surf flat (as predicted by MSW). Devastated, I still decided to walk around the town and beach to get familiar with my new surroundings. I learned 2 key things:
There are a lot of stray dogs here, and they literally have their own “gang” with regions. If another dog from outside the pack was to cross the imaginary border, (usually in pursuit of a trash can) the gang dogs would attack it and eventually scare it off its course. That same attacked dog would patrol its borders elsewhere, as if a scout searching for any trespassers. Once, I saw a black lab cross its path for some peanuts on the street, and the patrol dog howled to alert its crew. When the crew showed up a second later, they went after the black lab, who was prepared, and quickly bolted back from whence it came. The patrol crew did not even eat the leftover peanuts, but were satisfied that the black lab didn’t get to them. We humans really are animals and no better than dogs.
Even during the offseason, the beach in this little town can get busy. Swarms of tourists will bring out the foamies to surf the 1-2 feet whitewater, the local Moroccans will draw lines in the sand and set up football (soccer) games, and the other bystanders will hang out by a cafe to read / people watch. While I was walking the oceanfront, a ball drifted towards me. I wasn’t going to miss this chance. I did a quick kick-up, juggled a few times, and sent it back over to a Moroccan. My little display of showmanship worked, and luckily, as they were odd-numbered, I was motioned over to play. Communicating as if we were playing a game of charades, (none of them spoke English) I was assigned a team and played football with them for the rest of the afternoon. Ah, this is why I love sports. It’s a universal language.
Although I had a great time that afternoon and it was a highlight of my time in Imsuoane, I wish that ball never rolled over to me. As a result of playing barefoot, I ended up having 2 massive blood blisters on both feet, which made surfing quite difficult for the rest of the week. Every time I did catch a wave (a rarity), I felt as if I was standing on spikes. The walk to the beach made me feel like a cripple with my haphazard hobbling, and the salt water (while relieving at times) did not help the feet heal whatsoever.
With the season waning, the last few good surf days over, and my blistered feet, I decided it was time to bid goodbye to Imsuoane and make my way up to the North of Morocco. I stopped by Essaouira for one more day to do the tourist stuff, and then I was back on the road to Casablanca. En route, I gained a fascinating appreciation for my goateed, suited-up, tie straight, Moroccan driver. I have never seen a more horn-happy, hairy armed (when he took the suit off), man. He only spoke Arabic, which made it tough to learn how long our snack/toilet breaks were, as well as if he could turn on the AC. But his ability to deal with the ever-winding roads while changing the music on his playlist was enchanting. He conducted business transactions at stoplights and once made a transaction for some mint leaves within 10 seconds, before throwing the change at the merchant and tossing the leaves on his dashboard.
Casablanca
Oh and now we come to Casablanca, the soulless city, as I like to call it. Even before visiting, all locals I met from there only asked me one question: “Why?” I wasn’t so sure why I visited myself. It could be because I heard of a famous old movie with its title. Or I mistakenly thought that it was the “White City” due to its name. Or maybe because there was an easy bus route there from Essaouira. Most likely a combination of all three, I found Casablanca to be a city that would be ok to work in (seemed like there were a lot of business opportunities as the economic capital of Morocco), but probably bad for my mental state. The typical waiter, city walker, businessman, father, mother, and child all seemed to have the same expression on their face: Dead behind the eyes. Whenever I struck up a conversation, they seemed to sway all their positive stories towards times outside of the city, and viewed their life in the city as a “phase.” Wanting to leave the party before the cops show up, I booked a train (they have trains in Morocco?) to Tangier. Yes, they have trains (in certain areas). And they are just as good as any European train I’ve been on.
Tangier
On the train ride to Tangier, I realized I was traveling too fast to actually get any work done on my ideas. Self-doubt and insecurity began to creep in. Hello darkness my old friend. But while I was concerned with breaking the promises I made to myself, I also realized that I need to follow “whatever sets my heart on fire.” And currently, that was traveling fast, writing, and making videos. So I decided I was going to do that, and pick up the pieces where they may. Continue down the path of the hedonistic treadmill, if at least for a little while more.
Checking into my hostel, I immediately went to the rooftop to catch the view. In the corner of the rooftop was a slender, olive-skinned, blueish-green-eyed girl, gracefully putting a cigarette to her seemingly soft lips. The divergence between 2 thoughts popped into my head at this moment: A cigarette is terrible for you and we all know it can kill you, and yet here in front of me is a girl that could single-handedly bring low-rise jeans back into style. And herein lies my problem: If I saw an out-of-shape man smoking a cigarette, I would automatically associate him as a loser. But take a fit individual, well-fashioned and groomed, in the exact same scenario: sexy. The double standards I have are remarkable.
“Hey”
“Hey, this is an incredible view right?!?” I wasn’t talking about the buildings.
“Yeah, it sure is.”
“Are you American or Canadian?” Tough to miss that accent.
And so the conversation continued, classic topics for backpackers: Where you from, what’s your route, how long have you been traveling for, you know, the typical stuff. Stuff that gets boring real quick for me. But this young Lindsay Lohan (if she never did drugs) looking individual had a unique background: Yes, she was American, but had spent half of her childhood in Brazil. She also spoke Portuguese and Spanish fluently. Damnit, now I’m the uncultured stereotypical American in the group. I gotta change that at some point and brush up on Duolingo. All of Morocco was a good reminder of that. In every place I’ve ever been before, English was always the first or second language spoken. It was the language of movies, music, and the hostel world. But here in Morocco, English fell to 3rd or 4th place with the locals (Arabic, French, Spanish, and then English). And while it was helpful becoming friends with an American-Brazilian who could ask “Espanol o Ingles?”, I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.
For the next couple of days, we collected a group of other travelers (an American, a Dutch, and a Brit) and explored the town together. Lots of coffee, tea, camel rides, cave exploration, nougat snacks, and random conversations later – I decided Tangier was not bad. As I was coming from Casablanca, my overall opinion might be slightly skewed.
Chefchaouen
The blue city. The white girl wannabe influencers really come out of the woodwork in this place. But I get it, there are only a few towns that I thought were as picturesque as the cobbled streets, the streaks of freshly painted blue walls (they had just added a layer), the sights and sounds of the souk (market), and the surrounding silhouette shape of mountains that look down on the town as if providing a celestial blessing from above. I purposefully spent most of my time here alone. I didn’t want to make friends, I had some more “life admin” to do, existential thoughts to have, and videos/creative ideas to pursue.
Life admin consisted in planning my future travel to-dos: 1) book a flight to Egypt. Against all concerns from several friends about it being unsafe and me inevitably being scammed, I couldn’t shake that desire to see the pyramids. 2) Trekking through the Sahara Desert by Camel/foot 3) Hiking in the Atlas Mountains. After booking my flight to Egypt from Marrakech, I decided to figure out plans for numbers 2 and 3 later.
The existential thoughts were not worth dwelling on, but I did go down a rabbit hole of creativity while in the blue city. I’ve often found this to be the case: the more I find a place blooming with beautiful backdrops, the more “life” around me, the more creativity and “life” I can produce from within myself. My poison of choice here was around AI. I’ve spent a lot of time in the past years exploring this topic, but I started getting a more grounded idea of what I could personally use it for. My favorite two tools were 1) autonomous agents. I ended up building personal programs for them to determine visa status and pricing for countries/places I wanted to visit, alongside a bunch of other metrics I was interested in tracking. Although promising, the downside was that often, the information provided was still inaccurate or outdated. 2) Stable diffusion. This was some specific tech I really liked – it didn’t function that well on my low computing-powered Mac, but I saw the potential and was learning how to incorporate AI into my video projects.
Fez / Sahara
When I arrived in Fez, I decided to switch off my “project Mitch hat” and prioritize setting up a Sahara trip, that would lead me back to Marrakech. Outside of that, I explored the Medina, Tanneries, and rooftop bar scene with some Brazilians and a Dutch. During our exploration, I hit my breaking point with some of the Moroccan peddlers. I’ve spent a lot of time around cities, and am quite used to being bombarded and barraged with lines like “Hello my friend” “Come here” and “I’ll give you good Moroccan price.” But Fez tipped the scales, as they do not always respect personal boundaries. I was grabbed several times and literally pulled in directions, which I find to be unacceptable. Needless to say, I did not buy anything in Fez, but now that I have a more clear/level head, am thinking deeply about why they behave the way they do. 1) It works. The average scared tourist will end up buying from them just to get out of the situation. 2) They do not know any better. The souk in Fez was quite different than other Moroccan cities in that it was a very thin (basically one-way) snakelike pathway that led through the Medina. Those who grew up there would be used to constantly brushing shoulders with others and talking 2 cm away from your face. Taking a note out from Matthew McConaughey, I chalked it all up to “cultural differences” and decided I would probably behave the exact same way if I was in their shoes.
I ended up spending 2 days in the Sahara – words cannot describe the experience. I truly felt like I was living out 2 of my favorite childhood books: The Alchemist and The Horse and His Boy. Trying to find my own personal legend, running away from what I know, while also running towards things that excite me. The desert brought out a lot of emotions. Trekking around by camel and foot, I caught some of the best sunsets and stargazing I’ve ever seen, met Berbers (families of indigenous nomads that live in the desert), and even got to sandboard. Not nearly as riveting as snowboarding, but quite harder to turn, as the board I borrowed had no straps. Being around that much sand, something that effortlessly slips between your fingers like nothing, was a good reminder for me of the fleeting nature of life.
Mount Toubkal
After analyzing my budget, I decided that eating street food had paid its dividends and I had enough money to pay for a guide to hike Mount Toubkal, which was not only the highest point in Morocco, but all of North Africa. After convincing a friend, Tony, to join, we were told by the tour operator that 2 other people would be joining. This was a huge plus, as the price of the tour went down the more people we had. Tony and I conjured up ideas of who the other 2 people could be: 2 sorority girls, an old married couple, the honeymooners, the friends. I settled on 2 Germans in their late 20s. Seems like a very German thing to do, this hike. Turns out it was 2 Austrians (brothers), around the same age as us. They did get slightly offended when I assumed German, and said, “When the Germans go on a hike in Austria, we end up having to send a helicopter.” We finished the hike on day 2, waking up at 4am to catch sunrise at the peak. While I didn’t think the hike was that difficult during the process, the following days I was aching and quivering in the knees whenever I saw a stair.
The Pool
After all the adventuring, I spent my last couple of days in Morocco reading, writing, and people-watching. I found no other better place for the latter than the pool of my hostel. This pool was the meeting spot. It’s like we went fully around the moon, from house parties before phones to swiping on Tinder, back to the OG spot of poolside chats. I loved being a fly on the wall here, eavesdropping in on random conversations and psychoanalyzing people I will never see again. A lot of Americans provided entertainment and fit the usual stereotypes. There was the Hawaiian, who was not actually from Hawaii, just a transplant baby, but made it their whole personality. Then there’s the Californian, who finds it impossible to do anything on their own. Like a leech, looking for some boy toy to play with and solve all her travel plans. The Germans, who tend to find each other and group up. They would usually mention the difficulty of finding a drink in Morocco, and could be found at the restaurant bar upstairs. The Dutch, who, similar to the Germans, when asked about if they speak English, say “a little bit.” And then they speak more coherent sentences than you. The Brits, who ended up buying me a bunch of wine just to continue playing cards late into the night. The Aussies / Kiwis, who throw out more slang than the fries portion you receive at a Five Guys. Main nationalities covered, there were also some French, Moroccans, Spanish, Belgians, etc. All walks of life, all gathered by the pool. It was never about the water.
In Flight
Welp, that’s my egotistical, condescending, irrational, nonsensical thoughts around traveling Morocco for a month. Hoping that when I reread this, 10 years from now, future Mitch is not absolutely abhorred by the atrocious words coming from the page.
Off to the pyramids. But this time, I’m taking a car transfer from the airport.
I want to treat the rest of my 20s like they are a wash.
Now is not the time to get a safe job. I already did that.
Now is the time to be as risk focused as possible.
I will never be as “free” as I am now.
I have no baggage. No college debt left, no significant other, no parents I need to take care of, no children, nothing.
I can eat like shit and still be ok.
I can barely sleep and be fine.
Not saying I shouldn’t eat and sleep well, but I could survive. And on top of that, it’s not that hard to still eat and sleep well.
I can sleep anywhere (couches, beds without a bed frame, floor) and cook cheaply.
I can live for free with friends or my family.
I can stay in hostels for cheap all around the world.
I’m 26 now, so I have 4 years left.
So let’s think about the worst-case scenario: I wake up broke at 30. I have to move back home with the parents. I have to get the “safe job.”
Most likely scenario: I wake up broke at 30. But I’ve traveled the world, met incredible people, tried starting businesses, tried learning a new language, tried getting jacked in the gym, and learned about all these things I do/do not like. And then I can still use my college education and friends to get the “safe job.”
I understand this “20s are a wash” is a privilege. I am a college grad, I grew up / still have a somewhat stable family household, I have good friends/mentors, my body is fully functional, and I was born with a good mental state. But one thing I have learned in the last couple of years is it’s foolish to not recognize the privilege, but even more foolish to not use it. It would be selfish of me to not go for it. To not try and live my best possible life. If I was to just coast on my privilege, then I would be just taking it for granted. I owe it to my family and friends to go for it.
And the best-case scenario? I think we can all realize how good life can get.
But I think the best will be to look back on my life and not wonder: “what if…”
To know that I went for it.
And the chips fell where they did. But I went all in.
Hell, I was born with pocket Aces.
What a foolish thing to go silently, tiptoeing, safely to my deathbed.
I want scars.
I want the lessons, the failures, the struggles.
I want to point to the scar tissue on my body and say: Got this playing basketball with friends, this from snowboarding, this from longboarding, this from surfing…
When I was studying at Uni, I heard a quote from Peter Thiel that has stuck with me since. He said, “In a world that’s changing so quickly, the biggest risk you can take is not taking any risk.”
What a sad day it would be if I woke up and realized there was no time to try out / risk / do the things I always wanted. (Paulo Coehlo paraphrase)
The happiest I’ve been in my life has always been when I’m doing what I deem “epic shit.”
That’s often when adrenaline and risk are involved.
I could get hurt doing this. I could lose money, get my heart broken, fall off a cliff, get shattered by a wave.
But it’s all risky.
None of us are making it out of this alive.
Nietzsche said: “I know of no better life purpose than to perish in attempting the great and the impossible.”
That makes sense. Why be satisfied with average?
But the key is to listen to my own internal dialogue about what I deem ”great and impossible.”
My definition of “epic shit.”
I don’t need to surf Nazare waves.
But maybe I don’t go back to working in Corporate America for now.
Maybe I don’t play the status games of a high-paying job and instead take the zero pay of startup life.
Follow the “epic shit” and happiness model, cut out the status games and flexing that is engrained in me.
When in doubt about what to do, I should do what scares me.
Because if my dreams and plans don’t scare me, I’m not dreaming big enough.
I just spent 10 hours last night editing a 3-second clip that still turned out subpar. But at least I learned a new concept around masking, distortion, and animation within Final Cut Pro. The concept has been something on my mind for the last couple of years, ever since I saw a travel video that incorporated it.
Now, if you told me to work a job for 10 hours last night, I would have never done it. But because it was my own choice, the time flew by. I had full creative control. I didn’t need to do it, I could have stopped at any time. It was not productive of me. But somehow, I felt like it was worth it. I needed to know how the effect was created. And I needed to learn how to do it myself, to create the magic.
I’m starting to notice this is a common theme in my life. To do my best to “create magic.” Stemming probably from my love of fantasy books and movies as a child, I have always been fascinated by things that seem impossible. Things you need to take a second look at, to admire their beauty. Things that you can’t wrap your head around. “How did he or she do that?” If I ever have that question, it becomes insatiable. I need to know, how can I create such magic? What is the science? And then that evolves. It turns into, how can I create my own spin? How can I take concepts, themes, techniques, and create something that no one else has seen? That is art to me. Creating magic in music, visuals, anything.
My reading/watching fantasy applied to playing sports when I was young. I watched highlight reels of Jordan and Messi growing up, and every time I played Basketball/Soccer, I wanted to have the “magical moment” of hitting the game-winner. Free/Penalty kicks in soccer were particularly adrenaline-rushing. That moment in the game where the ref blows the whistle, coach symbols to you to take the kick, the crowd (however small, mostly parents) hold their breath, every now and then spouting words of encouragement…and all in an instant, you tune everyone out. You pick up the ball and rotate it in your hands to find the perfect pedestal on the grass for it to rest. Sometimes you dig your foot into the grass in front of the ball to give it additional elevation. This is routine, this is the science. The balance needed for the art. You take the same amount of steps back and to the left, as always, run up and kick the ball with the same form that you trained/practiced with thousands of times. But in that moment of routine, in that science, there is the art/grace. Putting the ball in the “far corner, upper 90” away from the soccer team’s wall, out of the goalies’ reach. There’s something special about being the skinny, 90 pounds soaking wet, short kid that no one expects, pulling up from +20 yards and drilling it in the back of the net. That feeling was magical.
When I entered high school, my parents made me sign up for gym class. Assuming that I wouldn’t make any team sports (I was no longer scoring goals or taking the free kicks for soccer), they wanted me to “stay active.” During gym class, we had a section on dancing. I hadn’t danced for years, ever since the “potty dance” incident. That last time was engrained in my memory. I remember proudly telling my sister I could beat her in a “dance-off.” She confidently accepted and went on to perform her ballet routine. When it was my turn, I tried my best Michael Jackson impersonation, shaking my legs like a dead fish. The reaction from my sister and the other sister (who was the judge): “Looks like you have to go the bathroom. That’s a potty dance!” Needless to say, I stopped dancing for a while, and ironically enough, the sister who won became a professional ballerina.
Well, now back to the freshman dance class. It’s been years since I danced (there also had not been a wedding in the family for a while), and now all of a sudden, there is this section in gym class where I’m forced to. No matter, I was born in a time where “trying” was labeled uncool. In school, I would always secretly study for tests. Partly due to fear from my parents and mostly due to my intrinsic perfectionist nature, I had to get an A or bust. But I couldn’t let anyone else know that. It had to be natural. I was just a “Michael Ross” and could consume knowledge like no one you’ve ever seen. Math class would start, and I would appear asleep on my desk. My friend Deandre would wake me up and ask: “You study for this?” To which my sarcastic response was, “There’s a test today? I don’t have time for that.” Outside of test days, when I had a question, I wouldn’t ask. I’d just spend an extra hour outside of class figuring out the answer. Better waste the time on my own dime rather than be labeled a “trier” or worse, ask a question that was obvious and be labeled dumb. All this to say, yes “being successful” and smart was always good, but trying in order to get it,? Uncool. Long ramble short – with dancing, I didn’t need to try. None of the guys in my class really did. Dancing was a girl’s thing. Why waste our time? So it was as a 14-year-old boy with a teacher who didn’t really care what we did, as long as the district paid his pension. Music turns on, teacher gives us time to “feel the beat,” girls are trying to one-up each other, guys are standing awkwardly around (every now and then trying to flirt with the girls)…and then, out of the corner of my eyes, I see 2 guys actually dancing. One of them was my friend, Stefan. In a split second, I see him fall over one of his knees to the floor, and somehow magically spin and pull himself back up simultaneously, without ever using his hands. The timing was perfect – right at the drop of the song.
How the fuck did he do that?
I was hooked. I asked him a million questions, went home, googled “how to pin drop,” and practiced for weeks, using my bed frame for support and thanking God that my parents had carpet on the floor to make the knee hurt a little less.
That pin drop move was the gateway into the addiction I now still have for dancing. But the catalyst, the thing that would propel me into obsession, was the YouTube video, “Pumped Up Kicks.” About 6 months after the pin drop incident, I stumbled across the video, and had another “oh shit” moment. Marquese Scott looked inhumane. I remember showing it to my Dad, and he didn’t even believe it was real. “They have technology and editing to slow/speed up movements, and make waves through the body,” he said. That was it. Scott was so good, even my Dad thought the video was edited. I was sold. I needed to create this magic. For the next several years, I watched YouTube videos and danced every day. Once I learned the general concepts (waving, tutting, popping, body isolation, etc) I realized that things truly were unlimited. I could apply my own twist to things, and come up with my own moves that no one has ever seen.
This magic creation has continued in my life – learning card tricks, writing/producing my own music, starting businesses, and now editing videos with effects. In all of these things, productivity was never the goal. Honestly, mastery wasn’t even the priority. I just had an insatiable curiosity to 1) learn how the trick is done 2) Perform the trick for others 3) Create my own tricks that no one has ever seen. To keep the magic alive. To do something that seemed impossible, that no one expected from me. For it’s in those brief, fleeting moments where I can take a finite thing, and make it infinite in a small way.
10 hours on a video edit is a small price to pay for that.
I’ve done walking tours across +25 countries in Europe, and the reason I keep coming back are for 4 main reasons:
Free (just need to tip at the end)
Gives a nice overview of the new city and helps me catch my bearings (Doing it the first day is incredibly helpful to find out cheap places to eat and where to go out)
Opportunity to meet people (can’t tell you how many friends I’ve made from them)
Gives me the ability to memorize one obscure fact that I can pawn off as my own knowledge in a random future pub to impress strangers (and ideally improve my chances of being seen as a not complete degenerate, or a worthy companion to a cute female)
With all that in mind, I’ve found quite a few similarities from country to country that I find entertaining/interesting. If you want to avoid some walking tours, become slightly less ignorant of the world, or improve your own chances of impressing your significant other / person of interest / pet cat, then feel free to read on about the weird facts.
Disclaimer: I’m going to make generalizations. These apply to some European cities, but obviously not all.
Water out the window. Back in the day, to get rid of human waste (I’ll let you deduce what all of this encompasses), people would just toss it out of their window into the streets. To avoid it hitting the people below, a lot of cities had their own expressions to warn the people to move out of harm’s way. Scots would yell “gardyloo”, Spanish would yell “Aqua va!”, etc.
Why do buildings have a second floor that sticks out further than the first floor? Answer: Taxes. A lot of cities used to charge based on the square footage from the ground, so people could save extra money if they built their homes with a smaller base
Circular paint spots on old buildings? Most likely old bullet holes from a civil war.
Why are staircases in castles built to spiral in a clockwise direction? Since castles were fortifications, these staircases were designed to be narrow and difficult for enemy soldiers to fight their way up. By building these staircases clockwise, the enemy (mostly right-handed) would need to round each curve of the wall before striking the defenders, often exposing themselves in the process. This gave the defenders a massive advantage, as they would be able to protect themselves using the inner wall and attack the enemy with their right hand wielding their swords. Other defense strategies were often put in place, such as intentionally making certain halls dark/dimly lit, having uneven stairs, trap doors in certain sections, holes where archers could shoot through, etc.
Why was a certain city district destroyed? Always comes down to a couple things, which are easily guessable based on the region. Its either a natural disaster (earthquake, fire) or humans (wars)
Every city in Europe swears they are “different from everyone else” and have a “cafe culture” where *shockingly, gasp* people love to drink coffee and gossip. Never would’ve guessed that. Can’t believe people like to be caffeinated or drink. Why would anyone ever do that.
Rules of Equestrian Statues: If the horse is rearing up and has 2 feet raised off the ground, then the rider died in battle. If the horse has one foot raised, then the rider died of injuries sustained in action shortly after the battle ended. And if the horse has all four hooves on the ground, then the rider died of natural causes.
Almost all things associated with culture and history can be explained by one of these 4 empires:
Roman Empire – greatest influence on western culture—especially in regard to architecture, language, literature, art, and science
Ottoman Empire – Islamic empire of Suleyman the Magnificent that covered: Southeastern Europe, Western Asia, and North Africa
British Empire – had about a quarter of the planet and population at its height and colonies on every continent
Macedonian Empire – one of the shortest-lived but most powerful empires in the world, under Alexander the Great
Most cities have fallen to one of the 4 empires listed above, before eventually gaining their country’s independence
Food is incredibly regionally based.
Irish and English Breakfast is basically the same
All the Balkans basically eat the same thing. Bureks for breakfast, some type of meat platter and salad for the other meals.
Germany, Austria, and Hungary have similar cuisines (basis of meat and potatoes)
Shall I go on?
Mention of World War 1 or 2 and the effects it had on the city. (Communistic architecture, concentration camps, destroyed buildings, etc)
Walking tours usually focus around Old Town, because Old Town > New Town – better for accommodation, restaurants, and nightlife usually
Numbers of religion are fabricated and higher than actuality. Some censuses don’t even have an option for non-religious / atheists. Religion in some areas is also viewed as cultural (e.g. people will view themselves as Muslim but won’t practice or follow all rules)
Eastern European countries are definitely more religious than Western European countries, and religion is still very much engrained in the city culture / practices
Height limitations on city buildings – Unlike the US, there are not many skyscrapers due to the rules about buildings not being higher than a particular church or government building.
Lot of old fortresses overlooking or in the outskirts of cities. These places where men have laid down their lives and fallen for the city has now been reduced to the make-out spot for teenagers
Cities almost always have a strategic access to water, being built around a river or coastline, with an old system of wells or aqueducts in place
Cities are either cat or dog focused, and they love em dearly.
Edinburgh, Scotland has a statue erected for a dog (Greyfriars Bobby) that died 150 years ago. Many people call it the “most famous statue” in all of Edinburgh.
Dubrovnik, Croatia once constructed a small house for a cat (Anastazija) on a step of the Rector’s Palace, and when the government decided to remove the house, it sparked an outrage amongst the people. The people protested and began writing negative reviews of the museum – bringing it down to 1.8 out of 10 stars. They also had an online petition that received more votes than what the mayor got when he was elected.
Tours always start in the central square (called a piazza, plaza, etc.)
With all this in mind, the next time you find yourself in a new city, I highly recommend you do a walking tour. And I’ll also look forward to hearing your obscure, random fact over some drinks at the pub.
As many of you already know, I decided to take a gap from Corporate America and travel Europe for a year. In my free time, my mind has been exploding with ideas, and naturally, a lot of them have been in the not-so-niche or unique market of traveling. Here are some high-level thoughts on 4 ideas I’ve had currently. If you end up reading the ramblings of a mid-20s coffee-addicted drifter/nomad, I’d love to hear any feedback or advice you might have.
Nomadista (Schengen/Travel Itinerary) App
Concept: Travel itinerary and calculator app for US citizens abroad
Current Market Problem: Non-visa and visa requirements are quite confusing for US citizens
The most visited countries for Americans are all in the Schengen zone (includes 26 countries)
Schengen rules are complicated
Out of a 180 period, (that begins once you step foot in a Schengen country) you can only be in a Schengen country for a total of 90 days. These 90 days do not have to be consecutive. (e.g. you can be in Schengen for 10 days, leave for 10 days, and keep doing that. As long as you don’t spend more than the allotted 90 days out of the 180-day period) The time period does not reset when you leave the Schengen zone, but only once the 180-day period has passed.
Schengen rules are strict
Some people have received massive fines, been put in prison, and even been banned from the Schengen zone for several years due to overstaying beyond the 90-day limit.
The current solution for handling Schengen is other calculator apps, but the majority are buggy and shit
The user interface is non-intuitive, a lot of the calculators do not work properly, and some do not take into account the first day of the Schengen zone as your start of the 180-day period
Every country outside of Schengen also has its own rules about how long a US citizen can stay in the country with or without a visa
Why I think I am a good person to solve this issue:
I am the customer. I am traveling Europe for the next year, which would be a total of two Schengen cycles (meaning I can only be in the Schengen zone for 6 months of the year). Originally I planned on spending a lot more time in the Schengen zone, but upon finding out about the law, knew I had to pivot my plans. I tried all of the current solutions in the market for Schengen calculators, saw they were shit, and then decided to build my own basic google sheet that calculated if I was “Schengen or Other Country policy clear” with my itinerary of places I wanted to visit. I still use my program when I change my travel plans (which happens often) and wish my own program was an app for easier usability
Concerns:
Don’t have my PC anymore (just a Mac without excel), so I built the program in Google Sheets rather than Excel, which is what I would normally use. With this in mind, it will take time to convert the program to an overall, full-scale application.
Schengen countries and Non-Schengen countries could change requirements, making this program moot, or in need of an update to the backend data
The typical long-term traveler does not like to plan and resort to itineraries (but I bet they also don’t like getting deported or fined…)
Limited Market (US-focused initially). The majority of travelers in Europe are European and allowed to travel freely if they are from a Schengen area.
CityRank App
Concept: As the name implies, this would be an app that allows you and your friends to rank the cities you visited
Rationale:We as humans love to rank and compare things. It’s part of our nature and how we filter our reality. We decide what food we like best, what sport is our favorite, and what car we want to drive. This is included in our commonplace conversations: “Who would win in a fight: Gorilla or Lion?”, “What level of attractiveness is that person on a scale from 1-10?” As superficial or artificial as this is, it’s not going away. We enjoy it for two reasons:
Entertainment’s sake (these are subjective answers)
The possibility that it can actually help us in making future, more informed decisions. (If a friend said their favorite food is Octopus, and you have never tried it, you are probably more likely to now try it in the future)
Purpose: In order to receive entertainment or education from an individual’s ranking, we need to respect their ranking framework and see how they came to their conclusion. This app completes just that, and can be used:
For personal reference
To share with your friends to get their opinion
To analyze your friends’ rankings and determine if that’s a place you want to travel to in the future
App Layout:
Tab 1 includes the framework for the city rank. It includes a list of metrics, plus the ability to customize this list based on your own personal preferences, such as:
Location
Arts / Culture
Shopping / Restaurants
Nightlife
Transportation
Outdoors / Nature
People
Architecture
Weather
Activities / Entertainment
Cost of Living
Tab 2 is the manual entry where you add in the cities you have visited, and rank that city based on the framework or metrics from tab 1
Tab 3 is the data visualization page, where you can see the list of your “top 10 cities” and have the ability to sort based on specific metrics or country views (e.g. best cities for Nightlife, the best city in all of Spain, etc.)
Once new data from Tab 2 is entered into the system, Tab 3 will be automatically updated, allowing you to share your “new city profile” with your friends through IG, FB, and other social profiles.
Think “Spotify Unwrapped,” but for traveling instead of music
Tab 4 is the feed section where you can view your friends or travel influencer city rankings, and see if you need to add a city to your next vacation/trips
The Other 2 App Ideas
Wanderlust App:
Think Tinder and Pinterest, but for vacation/travel destinations
Swipe through profiles of places (left is pass, right is interested)
Only get so many swipes per day, with a collation page of all your likes
Becomes personalized based on your previous likes
Bucketlist App:
Travel guide/checklist that includes the “top 10/20 must do” things in that city you are visiting
Filter by city and check them off as you complete them. (Includes google maps address for the destination for easier accessibility)
Feature to add in additional destination/to-dos for that city, so that way you have all of your checklist items in one place
All 4 Travel Apps Summary
Using Google Sheets could be the easiest way to get to an MVP (minimum viable product) to test in the market
There are a lot of non-code based App development platforms that will connect to Google sheets or another dataset and help you develop a customized app based on your backend data
After researching several app development platforms, my favorite right now is Glide due to their:
Relatively easy user interface
Learning modules to get up to speed on using the software
Pricing (can have 100 public members of the app for free. Up to 1K members and white labeling for $25/month)
White labeling would remove all branding from Glide and make the app look like a full-scale, normal iPhone app that can be downloaded through the App Store
Obviously, if any of these apps show promise or take off at all, it would definitely be worth creating the app in-house, without using a third-party provider such as Glide
If built correctly based on control and inputs, all these apps could be dynamic programs
Market Size and Valuation (according to Statista)
Total Contribution of Travel & Tourism to Global Economy: 5.81 Trillion USD
Number of International Tourist Arrivals Worldwide: 426.9 Million
Global Leisure Travel Spend: 2.37 Trillion USD
Future monetization strategy for all 4 apps (not really thinking about this at all right now)
Freemium pricing (free version, with a premium version without ads)
Partner with accommodations (hostels, hotels, BnBs) and airlines to show deals based on the customer’s location and their liked or itinerary destinations
Im fucking petrified. We are coming to the day, the time.
This has been on my mind for a long time, bungee jumping. Like sky diving, I’ve watched a lot of videos on it over the years, and always told myself “one day.”
Right when I showed up to Zadar, Croatia to check into my hostel, I saw a pamphlet advertising “bungee jumping” and told myself, “this is it.”
Legit company, 15+ years of history and safety. Dope view point over an amazing lake and bridge. And very cheap, as far as bungee jumping goes. It checked all the boxes. Yet my stomach started to curl on the inside. Not in the, I had an amazing dinner and ate too much cheese kind of way. More of like if my stomach was a washing machine. And my guts and inside were all the clothes just getting tossed around and around in a circular motion.
But I have to do it. I just need someone to hold me accountable.
Easy enough, hostels are always filled with people who want to do random shit. After a couple hours on the beach and chilling in the lobby of the hostel, I get 2 other girls to join me for the day. This is great, now my male chauvinistic ass has to do it. I can’t let 2 young girls laugh and jump off a bridge while I stand shaking in the corner.
It’s the night before, and I can’t sleep. Im tossing and turning. I keep repeating the facts over and over again to myself: “higher chance of dying in a car crash…higher chance of dying from a bee sting…” but somehow it’s no longer helping. My new best bet is to try to not think of it at all. Or to fast forward my life 18 hours ahead, when I’ve either completed the jump or died in the process.
I go to a cafe the morning before, thinking I can work on one of my side projects, but end up just watching motivational videos on YouTube to hype myself up. Mateusz M, you are a real G for your videos. Im getting goosebumps all over my arms. This isn’t really a big deal. Im fine. I need to do what scares me. Hell, I even picked out my t-shirt on purpose for the day. On the back it has a quote from Awolnation: “Never let your fear decide your fate.” I need to live by that.
One hour before the jump: The 2 girls are going to meet up with me at the cafe and we’re going to take an Uber over to the bridge. I’ve now decided to just not think. Let’s turn my brain off for the next hour. Yes, that will be better. I don’t have to do much. Just jump. Im good at jumping. Ive jumped a bunch in my life. I just have to move 2 feet. Thats it. The more I think about it, I don’t really need to be brave for long. Really just 2 seconds. Just for the jump. Everything before that, I’m not in any danger. And everything after the jump, it’s too late anyways. So I just need to be brave for 2 seconds. Thats such a small period of time. I can do that.
Well at least bungee jumping would be a cool way to go out. None of this “died of cardiovascular disease” or some bullshit. My nieces and nephews will think their uncle was a badass.
The ODDS are SO LOW. But what if that rope tangles around my neck? Hanging would be a brutal way to go out. Bloody execution style. On video and everything. No one would want to watch the tape. Go pro footage 4k definition and all.
So I’m back from the bridge, thoughts more collected, adrenaline still pumping, and oh boy, I can honestly say that was one of the best feelings of my life. You are literally a bird in the sky for a couple seconds. The rush of that “free fall” is liked getting kissed by the earth for the first time. You literally feel the gravitational pull. Unbelievable. I now have a new profound feeling to relate to when I’m playing Fortnite and drop into the map. After the free fall experience, you get so close to the water you think you are going to crash, until last minute, you feel the bounce from the rope, springing you back into action. And up you go, with a little less power and a little more control, bouncing around until you come to an eventual stop. You are then lowered into a boat below, where you drop and unstrap. Floating around the water and looking up at the bridge towering over you, all I can think about was “damn, I was up there a minute ago?” Such a surreal experience.
So I’ve been traveling Europe for >2 months now and decided to look back at my notes I took during my first country abroad in Europe: Ireland. These notes were taken in pubs, on trains, buses, and at 3am, so please dont judge me too much…
Steering wheel on the opposite side. Driving on the opposite side. They’re driving wrong! OR PARADIGM SHIFT (#thanksStevenCovey for teaching me that word) we are driving wrong…
Outlets are different here. Found out that Ireland and UK share an outlet type, and the rest of Europe has a whole different outlet. Had to buy an adapter for all my tech shit.
I’m not from America, I’m from the States. There are ALOT of countries in America
Irish girls are cute (or maybe its just the people visiting…or maybe its just any accent besides the typical American…or maybe I’m just drunk)
Like NYC, can’t get into clubs without nice pants. Joggers are called track suits here, and do not work
Locals are confused what I meant when I asked if there was “pickup” games for sports like football (soccer) – sad, I really wanted to jump in on their 5-a-side footsie games, which all seem to be regulated and part of different leagues
Getting the feeling that I will think US cities are boring after traveling across Europe. There is just so much more history, cool old shit, and building designs here.
Trinity College reminds me of Princeton’s campus
St. Patricks Cathedral and Book of Kells are dope
Music is interesting
About 30% of their “big hit” songs played in the club I’ve never heard of
Don’t judge me for being pretentious, but I kinda feel like there is a delay with music hits here and they are a little outdated. A lot of the pubs, hostels, and public areas don’t play recent hit songs, but hit songs from 5-15 years ago. Its like visiting my Mother or Grandma and seeing that they are still using VCRs and DVD players haha
After spending more than a week in Ireland, I’ve now decided that bar/club music can be described as basic white boy – if you can play Mr. Brightside, Sweet Caroline, and Country Roads you have the creative right to play in any bar from Dublin to Galway
I’m creating a new rule for myself to hold off on booking several days for a place at once. (I had this fear of not finding a hostel, but I think its worth the risk) There is so much to see in Ireland but I’m strapped to returning (at least at night) now to Dublin for 5 days. Think I could’ve done Dublin in 2-3 days no problem.
EDIT: It was definitely worth staying in Dublin for 5 days. Met a lot of really cool people and did some amazing day trips during days 3-5. But I still agree with this idea of booking places only for a few days at first, and extending as needed
Best way to get a list of places is to talk to the locals. Not “top 10” lists on Google. If you have to resort to online lists, check Reddit, as its written by people and there’s no paid posts or sponsorships
Funneist line I heard in Ireland:
Irishman speaking to me: “so where you from, lad?”
Englishman: “He’s from the land where they play rugby, but for pussies.”
Irishman: “Ah, America!And you all don’t even call it the right name, you fake footballers”
Just walking down Grafton or Camden street can inspire anyone to dust off their guitar or keyboard and get practicing
It’s called “takeaway” here and not take out. Guess they are similar enough.
Places are open way later than US typical bars, and food options are plenty once bars close. Some of the places do have a 10% late night charge after midnight however
They’re called toilets here, not washroom or bathroom. Makes sense, no need to sugarcoat things
I’m unsure how I feel about the “typical tourist.” Yes I’m a tourist myself. But I want to do more than just visit a place. I want to immerse myself in it. Speak the language, eat the food, blend in. I don’t see how throwing paint on your face, waving the Irish flag, and acting like a leprechaun at a bar crawl makes you any more Irish. But if you’re having a good time, I guess at the end of the day, you do you. Your happiness is definitely not dictated by my own private condescending notations, that often times can be quite hypocritical in and of themselves
If hotels and hostels were the same price, nay, even if hostels were more expensive, I’d still prefer them. The serendipity of meeting and making new friends is part of the essential travel practice. The lobby, bar, kitchen, and game rooms are awesome ways to meet people
They say river ____, not river ____. Fox River in Illinois would be pronounced “River Fox” in Ireland
If you go to the Aran Islands AND DO NOT rent a bike, you are…how can I put this nicely…the type of human being who orders Chipotle but does not put guac on their burrito. Yes, it’ll cost ya a lil. But it will enhance your life immensely.
Tip for Cliffs of Moher: Busses and tour guides typically arrive every two hours. On those two hour marks, old people leave and new people arrive. It is herein that lies the golden opportunity of 15-45mins. SKIP a bus ride. Honestly this should be a no brainer. I could spend a whole day there hiking to both ends, checking out their visitor center, and taking a nap on the edge, yet everyone I meet is only there for 1-2 hours. And I get it, you’re only in Ireland for so long, there is so much cool stuff to see, blah blah. But hear me out…if you skip a bus ride, you get the time it takes for the old people to leave and the new people to get to your spot of isolation. That moment, typically between 15-45mins, is pure bliss to me. NO ONE walking by, NO One in sight, (if you pick the right spots) it’s just you, the seagulls, and the cliffs. As long as you don’t give in to the call of the void, I think it’s an experience worth having.
Booking group bus tours to get to a set of destinations in Ireland are honestly quite affordable. I’ve found that if you were to take public transportation to all of the destination, and added in the cost of entry to see the national monuments/castles/cool shit, you are basically only paying a couple extra euro. All of that for an experienced tour guide who drives you around from spot to spot, tells you when to leave, and where to go / what to do? As long as it’s not my Mom, sign me up.
Another reason why these group bus tours are fun: you never know who you might meet. In my first bus tour to Castles and the Blarney Stone, I met a group of 9 friends from Atlanta who were just the sweetest humans ever and decided to adopt my hobo ass into their group. Not only did we have a blast hanging out in Dublin the next couple days, but I think there is a chance I’m going to travel with them in the future.
Got a job offer from this hostel in Belfast, Northern Ireland to work there if I ever decide to come back. Nice to know that if all else goes wrong, my friend Diego has got my back
So about a month ago I embarked on traveling across Europe for a year. Here is the checklist I used to prep before my departure:
Checklist
Visit with family before leaving
Reach out to friends to see if anyone wants to meet up abroad
Complete taxes
Pay any outstanding bills (hospital, friends, etc.)
Cancel subscription based services that are not needed
Remove outdated data/information on laptop to clear up space, shift over to external harddrive
Buy/Test camera
Buy/Test backpack
Buy/Setup Eurorail pass
Book initial flight oversees (Flight from Chicago → Dublin)
Book first 2 days at Hostel (to give some peace of mind when arriving)
Call all banks to ensure accounts are not flagged when traveling abroad
Ensure passport and license are up to date
Ensure vaccination status is up to date
Recs for EU Travel: COVID + booster, hepatitis A, hepatitis B, typhoid and rabies
Recs for Asia Travel: COVID + booster, hepatitis A, hepatitis B, typhoid, rabies, cholera, yellow fever, and Japanese encephalitis
Buy travel insurance – pay about $500 for 6 months through WorldNomads
Ensure several checking accounts are setup, favorites listed below:
Charles Schwab – no foreign fees, no monthly fees, all insured, reimbursed for all ATM fees
B of A – major bank that works with all the other banks and can fight for the best deals
HSBC – ATMs all around the world, cheaper rates than other banks if you are not using their ATMs
Worth checking nerd wallet for sign up bonuses
Ensure all Credit Cards are up to date:
Chase Sapphire Preferred Card
Capital One Venture Rewards Card
Discover Card
Update phone plan
Switch plan from T-Mobile to Mint Mobile (since I’m not texting / calling abroad, all I wanted was to keep my phone number – which you can do for $15/month indefinitely with Mint through their plan)
First aid kit (consists of 3 bandaids, ibuprofen, antibiotic cream)
Create general budgeting through Excel or Google Spreadsheet to calculate spending costs
Categories I included:
Up front costs, such as: Insurance, flights, Eurorail pass, etc
Average data/phone plan spend (per month)
Food (per diem)
Hostels / Hotels (per diem)
Activities / Entertainment (per week)
Average travel / transportation costs (per month)
Average subscription costs (Spotify)
sys.exit(“end of checklist”)
I understand that this list is personalized to what I needed, and as quite a unique individual (if I do say so myself), would not work for everyone. But I am still hoping that if you do end up traveling for an extended time, you can use this as a rough skeleton of some of the things to consider.
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