We all make travel mistakes. In theory, the longer a person travels, the less mistakes we should make, right? Unfortunately probably not. While we may learn from our mistakes, there are always new ones! If you are lucky, you learn a lesson you’ll remember. If you aren’t so lucky, you may be out some money, or some important travel memories (if, for example, you get your camera stolen and loose your pictures). However, sometimes, when we look back on these ‘oh my goodness…’ moments, they turn into oddly funny stories.
It was the first day I’d ventured out of my neighbourhood during my month-long Parisian visit. I’d rented a small apartment in Montmartre, and I enjoyed mornings on my balcony, followed by meandering through the narrow streets around the Sacre Coeur for the first several days.
It was time to journey out. It was the first Sunday of the month (for those in the know, and now you, many large attractions are free during this day). Because I was on a rather limited budget (read the details of how I stuck to my 15USD/day budget here), I was hopeful that I could take advantage of many lovely museums, churches, and activities on this day.
I set my alarm and woke up ready to hit the ground running. In my hurry to leave the apartment, I had neglected to eat breakfast. I figured I would grab a baguette somewhere on the way.
I’d nearly arrived at my first stop of the day (Musee d’Orsay) and had yet to find a cheap breakfast location. Desperately hoping to avoid over-priced museum food, I approached a crepe station. Being the budget conscious traveller I was, I didn’t want to pay the 4 euros for a crepe, and I asked just for a banana. He answered that it was two euros.
Clearly jet-lagged (or tired…or just hungry!), I tossed him a two-euro coin, grabbed my banana and ran away to stand in the quickly lengthening line. As I was standing in line, eating my far-too-ripe banana, I realized what had just happened. Did I really just pay almost THREE DOLLARS for a BANANA??
Even the most expensive, organic, cruelty-free, grown in a natural banana-farm-type of banana would have been nowhere near this. Maybe ONE dollar.
And yes. I had just paid three. And no. It was not the best banana of my life.
I kicked myself for most of the day, alternating between ‘how did I actually let this happen? and ‘hahaha. Oh my goodness. What a hilarious culture-shock thing to do. This will be a great story one day!’
When I got back to my arrondissement that evening, I stopped in to my local grocer. I had been there not even four days, and he already knew my name and we had shared several satisfying ‘welcome-to-Paris’ conversations. I bought a large bundle of bananas, determined to not repeat my expensive, next-to-the-d’orsay-banana error. As I was preparing to pay, I told the shop keeper about my banana story. The 8 bananas I bought in the store cost less than 2 euros.
He laughed (mostly with me) and gave me an encouraging pat on the back. He assured me that he would never even consider selling a little banana for that price, but that I was now a proper Parisienne. Getting used to the city takes a little while, and if loosing two-euros to a banana is the worst that happens (and it was!) I was very fortunate indeed!
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