I was out camping in Slovenia with the scouts. We stayed in podljubelj and met an older guy (friend our campground owner, important for later) that did tours through the redstone mines and abandoned buildings in the mountains. The tour was to take 3 hours and it cost €15 cash only, so we did a quick calculation of how much we needed and got it from the atm just before the tour started.
We had a great time and got some cool memories climbing down a abandoned mineshafts and lifts while this guy was terrified for our lives😅 So the tour concludes and we go to pay him, and he almost fell over backwards when we handed him €200 which was the price we calculated + a small tip.
Turns out the €15 wasn’t per person but instead a flat rate no matter the group size. Fucking €15 for guiding a group of 12 idiots for 3 hours.
We ended up having intense negotiations with the guy for how much he was willing to take. In the end we managed to convince him to take €100 from us and we ended up giving the other €100 to our campground owner who would make sure his stubborn friend didn’t turn down “free” money.
I still can’t believe that tour was meant to be just €15
I know, I’m just providing a example to show the disparency between economic of two different countries, where as for one person the amount is minimal while for the other is significant.
(Solvenia also uses Euro, so I don’t know whats going on over there)
One of the funniest, my wife majored in British literature in college. She’s read all major works, reads Shakespeare for fun, and can read and speaks middle English. I worked and traveled to England a few times a year and had lived there in my early 20s, before we met.
For our fifth anniversary I took her to England. It was her first time ever leaving the US. In fact the first time she left the southern US.
We’re standing at the curb at Gatwick waiting for a cab and there are two guys behind us talking. My wife leans over and whispers, “what language are they speaking?”
I just started laughing, and explained they were speaking English, they are just Scottish. All that book learning and studying of the language couldn’t prepare her for the Scottish accent.
While in Japan, i once saw two fuzoku girls (which are basically light-prostitutes, they give “special” massages or baths to people) waiting outside a massage parlour at night, then some old dude passed them, and they went crazy and screamed “Wait! wait! wait! dont you want a massage?” and wouldnt let him go.
He just kept on walking with a serious look on his face, and not looking at them, he looked like Patrick Bateman walking around in his workplace with his headset, that kind of serious look.
So I’m walking around a bazaar in Nepal. I got kids following me everywhere begging for money. Out of nowhere a Nepalese guy wearing a ripped up shirt comes running up and starts slapping kids and yelling at them. The kids run off and the man starts cozying up to me.
He starts asking where I’m from and follows me around for a while. Finally he cuts the foreplay and asks if I “smoke hashish”. I say yeah and we talk about that a while. He asked where I was staying and I told him Hotel Yak and Yetti. He says he’ll come by and smoke with me.
So, at the time he was supposed to show up I’m in the lobby when a hotel worker comes over and says that someone is looking for me. I walk outside and the dude is now wearing a tailored suit and is motioning for me to get in a cab.
Alarm bells go off, but fuck it you only live once. I get in the back of the cab with the guy. He has a pack of cigarettes where he emptied out the tobacco and filled them with weed. He says his cousin is the driver. We ride and smoke. I got so fucken high.
Then he’s like hey buy the rest of this pack from me. I was like dude I don’t have much money. He’s asks if I have some clothes that don’t fit. I’m 6’2” this guy was like 5’. But I’m like yeah and gave him 2 pairs of jeans.
Then I had to flush the weed because I was getting on a plane to Tibet the next morning. Staying in a Chinese prison wasn’t on my itinerary. So I had to leave the weed behind.
I have no idea, but looking back on it this is my guess. I was 18 at the time. I am like I said 6’2” which is way taller than most people there. I am white and at the time had long hair that was done in Bo Derek micro braids.
My guess is he moves weight in weed and hash. He saw some guy looking like a hippy from the US and decided to feel me out. They were super nice.
I bought drugs. It was super sketchy. It was very stupid but I was young. We were in a taxi driving who the fuck knows where. It wasn’t even a road. We ended up in an alley in a ghetto where we bought the driest, shittiest Mexican dirt weed I’ve ever seen. We went to a strip club after that. The other person with me drank a little too much and got scammed by some girl. The night ended with the bouncers taking us to an ATM where he had to empty his account. In a separate incident, we were held up at gunpoint by some paramilitary guys in camo. I ended up getting really sick on that trip too. I went to a doctor who gave me a shot in the ass of something. It hurt like hell and didn’t make me feel better. I had to come home early and get antibiotics. I would rate it a 0/10. In retrospect, I’m lucky I didn’t end up kidnapped for ransom or dead. Not one of my finer moments.
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