The Lentil House

Transient, vagabond, dirty hippie.

The latter of the list has been frighteningly accurate these past few weeks. After months of gallivanting around Europe with spur of the moment trips to Berlin, Vienna, and beyond I have come to the end of my savings. Throughout this adventure, people have been asking me one common question - "how are you affording this?" Here is a little taste of the reality of being a broke traveller.

After working and saving for a year I had a small cushion to take me on this trip. I signed up for a Barclay credit card which enabled me to purchase my flight to Istanbul based on reward points alone. While in Istanbul I was lucky enough to meet a selfless, beautiful human who let me make her home my own. I lived off almonds and cheap kebabs which protected my little pocket of cash. From there I booked a cheap flight (skyscanner.com is a lifesaver) to Bucharest where I stayed in the first of many hostels for $10 or less. From that point on I travelled by bus, train, and minivan, always searching for the cheapest path. There were many nights spent on buses which turns out to be a great way to save one night's accommodation. Restless nights were spent in hostel dorms as the sound of 16 other people sleeping infiltrated my subconscious. Two cheap meals a day of street food kept me satiated, albeit slightly nutrient deprived. Things were surprisingly simple, and it was easy to get by on roughly $15-$20 a day (with the exception of travel days and the occasional cheeky night out).

Australia has been a slightly different story. In the land of $14 avocado/Vegemite toast I have finally felt the pressure of being unemployed for 7 months. As I struggled to find my feet, I moved into an appropriately priced room in what has now become known as the Lentil House. Nepalese flags fluttered across my window as I explored ways to feed myself with a rapidly depleting allowance. Thankfully the Lentil House came equipped with a blossoming vegetable garden which I raided daily for sustenance. Random combinations of beet root, tomatoes, squash, onions, and whatever other vegetable was on sale were hastily shovelled into my maw as I sat in bed reading. It should come as no surprise that TV and wifi were nowhere to be found in my little hippie abode. Olive oil was used as a replacement for lotion, face wash, and conditioner. Simple things like toothpaste and deodorant were treated as luxuries and used sparingly.

One slightly hungover morning I found a very disgruntled mate (see how Australian I am?) standing in my kitchen clutching a mug with enough force to shatter it. Her glare stopped me in my tracks as she informed me that my hippie house did not have coffee, but rather ground, roasted dandelion and her caffeine dependent body was less than impressed. It summed up what it meant to live in the Lentil House beautifully.

Having no money was an interesting challenge as I had to become quite creative to stay afloat. I have been outrageously fortunate to not have to feel the sting of desperation before this and it was a lesson I'd rather not have to learn again. An endless thank you goes out to the numerous people who helped out in some way, be it a tearful phone call, a comforting whiskey, or selfless loan, you are lifesavers.