6 horribly uncomfortable travel moments

6 horribly uncomfortable travel moments

We are all aware that traveling is about exploring the world, meeting great people and finding themselves. The Internet is littered with blog posts about life -changing and open moments. However, they are not just encouraging stories and romantic anecdotes.

I was in the backpacker block and had some tormentingly unpleasant travel moments; The kind of experiences that are so terrifying that you simply don't know where to look for or what to say. Here is my list of top 6.

(too) close and personally

It was a brooding hot day in Arusha, as is the case on most days in East Africa. I was on the way to Moshi. Public buses in Tanzania can be quite depressing, so I was happy when I got started early and had free choice of seats. I chose carefully and chose a window at the very back left.

It didn't take long for the bus to fill up and a pretty, how should I say, "heavy" woman with her baby soon took the place next to me. When we removed and started collecting passengers, I was encouraged to mix myself so that another person in our series could join. I, in the spirit of things, are happy to commit. In the meantime the bus was full and it was more stuffy from second to second. Quite soon the baby started to cry.

The child was clearly hungry and of course the mother made it for it. I like to call myself a man of the world, but I admit that I was surprised by her openness: her lavish breast was not only visible, but rested unabashedly on my right arm!

Costed like sardines, I could hardly move and as a brit and the only white one on the bus, I didn't have the gut to say "sorry", so I left my arm where it was. Nobody else twitched with the eyelash when I was glowing glowing, while the naked breast rested on my arm. For an hour.

serenade ... bad ... repeated ...

The food had been delicious: a three -course delicacies in one of the most elegant restaurants in the Caribbean. The exquisite dessert had arrived and we started to indulge happily. We were the only guests there. Very intimate, very romantic and very peaceful.

An employee came in with a guitar. And another clap. They stood right in front of us. The guitar was tuned, his voice broke at the end of every note and her clapping was sporadic and out of the beat. They were about 30 cm in front of the table, so that they could literally never look at them anywhere. We switched between polite smile and offended unbelief towards our desserts. Romantic moment: ruined. Finally it ends. I don't even know what it was, but it was bad. At least it was over.

that means until the next night. We were there a total of six nights and survived five painful dinner. We changed the time we took our meals to try to give them the slip. Didn't work - they still appeared, sometimes with a third employee who added "backing vocals". We will never find out how such a otherwise nobles resort.

On our last evening we noticed that another couple had decided to eat on the beach. At first we were jealous until we heard the "band" sings only for them. We smiled smugly and enjoyed our food in peace.

Witness of a secret Finnish wedding

We were very happy about that. Kia and I had booked a room in a hotel in the center of Helsinki for a long weekend in the middle of winter. Before we left the UK, we received an email from the owners in which we were asked if we were willing to witness a secret wedding in the hotel. We willingly agreed and speculated about who could be the mysterious bride and groom. "Maybe they are celebrities" or "Maybe they run away and flee".

We got a room number and a time to be on the door. We came home early from a sightseeing morning and tried to dress as elegantly as possible from the hand luggage we had. We arrived in the room excitedly and knocked on, giggled while we were waiting for anticipation. The door opened and we were let in.

There were four people in the room: the official, a photographer and the casually dressed couple. They were not celebrities, but that's all we know. They weren't exactly what you would call.

"Are you from Helsinki?" I asked. "Yes," came the taciturn answer. "It is very special to have a secret wedding." "Yes." "We feel very special when the only two witnesses are invited," dared Kia. This time she nodded. Hm.

We turned to the civil servant and waited as she continued in Finnish. The photographer whizzed through the room and photographed us awkwardly. Finally everyone turned and looked at us. That was obviously the right time for us to sign something, so we signed something. More photos of the unpleasant scene.

"Maybe you could send us a few photos?" I asked. A awkward smile. "Well, congratulations. We hope you are very happy together." Nod twice this time. "Well then, then we go, yes?" "Goodbye," came the answer. "Okay, uh, thank you and, uh, yes, goodbye."

"asked" to convert to Islam

"Abdullah," said the driver and turned to Kia. "This is a Muslim name. You are Muslim?" "Yes, my parents are from Bangladesh." "But you", turned to me, "you're not, right?" "No, no, I'm not, I'm afraid." Was I? I was afraid? "What are you?"? "It is probably the best thing to say yes, I thought. I thought. I am not sure whether I have diplomacy to get a debate about spiritualism, humanism, agnosticism or worse. I am atheism in Jordan - it is probably best to be on the safe side." Yes, I am Christian, I told him. "And are you both married?" he continued. "No, we are not married", "you will convert before getting married, right?"

I giggled, rolled my head back and met his gaze in the mirror. He didn't giggle. "Oh, yes, I assume I could convert," I stuttered more seriously. "Well, if you want to get married, then you have to convert." A statement - no question. "Well, um, we are not sure if we, um ..." I started to fidget and turned red when I looked him back in his eyes. "Yes, I guess I convert better." I smiled weakly.

After a few other unpleasant changes, his attention turned away from Kia. He then had her recited an Arab prayer, and although I felt, I was glad that he was no longer concentrated on me.

avoid an overzealous tour guide

I love museums. I like to take the time to explore the artifacts and read the associated posters. Please note the language that I use here: take time.

I was looking forward to the National Museum in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I knew very little about the history of the country, so this would be the perfect introduction. We had organized the visit as part of a tour, which I would normally not do, but it was cheap and included a lot. Our guide (I will not call him and shame) was more than a bit ... enthusiastic.

We arrived at the museum and I looked at the first hall. It was full of statues that dated the story that interested me. Further back, in the next hall, was more my stuff: swords, large ships, warriors with arrow and arch - boys' stuff. I set off in this direction.

Unfortunately our guide had other ideas. He called me back and waved me to the first statue. Okay, I thought, we weren't rude. Let's see what he has to say. About 20 minutes later we had covered the first two statues and I quickly lost patience. Kia was better: she nodded gracefully and tried to move him on at the same time.

"And what about this one?" She would ask and show a few statues in the hope of skipping a section. Nice attempt, but that would not work with this type.

After an hour and a half in the same hall, I just couldn't stand it anymore and marched towards the guns and cannons. Somehow Kia made it with more bar than I could ever raise to shake it off after about the twentieth statue and to join me stressed and exhausted.

Later a day we continued to the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, the former S-21 prison and the scene of some of the darkest moments of Cambodia. "We can't have it with us all the time," I said to Kia.

"No, I can't stand that again - not here."

KIA told him brazenly that we prefer to go through the site alone and promised to meet him when we were done. When I watched her gently down, I am pretty sure that I saw the moment when his heart broke and he considered to give up his job forever.

an inquiry too far

It was a particularly hot day this summer 2012. We were in a high-end hotel in a high-end hotel and I was commissioned to take photos to accompany Kia's article. In general, I offer to share my photographs with the host hotel so that you can use them for your own purposes. Occasionally, they request a certain recording (e.g. an inclusion of the deluxe suite, the gardens or the dining area). Sometimes - well, this one time - the host asked for a small "extra" ...

"We could use a photo of the new showers that we have just installed," said the resort manager. "Okay, no problem," I replied. "I get something after we checked out and the room was cleaned?" "Well, it would be great if we could get someone in there." I was a little confused. "Um, well, I'm not really working with models, so we'll find it difficult to get a good picture, I'm afraid." "Oh, no, that's okay. We just use people with whom you feel comfortable." She pointed to Kia. "And we will make Leo join her." She pointed to one of the employees, a tanned waiter in the twenties.

My eyes widened. Did she ask me to photograph my own friend ... in the shower ... with another man? "Um, I don't think Kia would feel comfortable while modeling." "Oh, we don't have to see your face; just her silhouette." "Uh ..." she continued: "And it would be good to get both of her on the massage table." I got red. How could she not see that this was unprofessional and inappropriate? "So, I leave it up to choreographed everything," she said carefree and strolled away. I stood there amazed. Has that just happened? I spent the rest of the trip avoiding her. When she finally held me, she asked me about the recordings. "I have a mix," I said vague. "I can't wait to see her!" I smiled and gave way back ... very, very slow.

Mission statement: Atlas & Boots

 .