Have you ever been on a bus and sneezed into your hand but didn’t close your mouth in time and now you’re sitting there in a sweltering hot seat just clutching a hand full of wetness? What did you do next?

    I walked over the border into Bulgaria. Again.

    The bridge between Romania and Bulgaria is called The Friendship Bridge. It’s under construction so they only place to walk is directly through the work zone. I did this around 10am on a hot Friday morning. It took about an hour.

    My clustfuckery of travel plans resulted in a the night at Sunny Beach — an awful strip of massive hotels crammed full of drunk Brits. After booking my hotel, an extremely attractive woman showed up in a sports car at midnight, told me to get in, and then delivered me to an apartment.

    At 9:30 in the morning, the pool below me began to blast music at top volume. The song? Turn Down for What. I briefly contemplated jumping off the railing.

    European bathrooms occasionally have what I call a shower-toilet situation. There is no dedicated area for showering and no shower curtain. You end up spraying everything in the room. It’s disgusting.

    I hate that my phone recognizes “Kardashian” but not “Kasabian”.

    Bulgarian girls know how to wear a scarf.

    Taxi Driver: “I can get you to Sunny Beach. There’s two other people going.”
    Me: “How much?”
    Taxi Driver: “40 euro”.
    Me. “Sure”
    He walks off to have a smoke. I ask the two other people how much they are paying. They tell me 40 Bulgarian leva which is about $20.
    Taxi Driver: “Are you ready to go?”
    Me: “Ahhh. 40 euro is too much. I’ll give you 50 leva.”
    Taxi Driver: “No. That’s not possible.”
    Me: “That’s fine. I’ll just hitch.” Turn and walk into the darkness.
    Taxi Driver: “Wait. Fifty is fine. Get in.”

    Ideas for next tour: 100 Nights of Hammocks.

    Spacing out enjoying the Romanian countryside outside the window of my empty train car. There’s a tap on my elbow and when I turn there’s this blond headed unaccompanied three year old with no expression on his face. He demands that I turn over one of my wristbands. He tries to pull it off, gets frustrated, and leaves. I expected him to return with a knife.

    Didn’t fully understand what was happening at the Cluj bus station until my new friend Bianca was kind enough to step in and translate for me. She also showed me Romanian pop music during our 11 hour bus journey.

    A Romanian guy that I was walking behind on a quiet street let out a thundering fart. He looked around but didn’t see me and imagined that he made it with no witnesses. He didn’t.

    From a¬†Settlers of Catan Game in a German accent with almost zero emotion: “It makes me happy when I see you lose everything.”

    I may or may not have ended up eating an entire pizza by myself for dinner.

    I got to see a metor shower with cheap wine and fantastic company.