After decades on the road, I’ve collected a few rules that have served me well. Rule one: always go inside a cathedral. However dull, tiny or ugly it may seem, it will always tell you something. Even if that something is ‘avoid this town.’ Rule two: pack condiments wherever you go. I recommend Tabasco, soy, sriracha, and salt and pepper grinders – they can save the blandest meal. Lord Byron did this, so you’re in good company. Rule three: expect to be ripped off by the first taxi in any new country, and when it happens, grin and bear it.
Nothing quite beats the terror of climbing into a cab in some remote mountain region, only to discover that your driver is blind drunk
This third rule is vital because it accepts human nature. When you arrive in a foreign land you are tired, disoriented, grimy, and likely grappling with a new currency and language.

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