As a long-term budget traveller, I am quickly learning the skill of stretching the money we have. This has been especially important in Scandanavian Europe, where everything is more expensive than we are used to. For example, a regular coffee easily costs 5 Canadian dollars. Luckily, with the help of other like-minded folks, we've had some great meals that have cost us zero currency units.
In Denmark, we find out that our new Danish pal is a foodie of sorts. While he works on cooking us a huge pot of pasta with bacon and rose sauce for late-breakfast in his tiny kitchen, he pulls out a handful of green leaves from a bag. He explains that it is a culinary plant is known as "ramslog" (the 'o' has a line through it). It tastes peppery and onionish, is relatively uncommon and mostly obtained by wild foraging (which is where this bunch came from).
In Norway, we meet an American traveller who looks like a young, blonde, smaller version of Woody Harrelson. He comes up with the brilliant idea to quell our midnight hunger pangs by foraging for food in the FREE section of the hostel kitchen, where other travellers have left food they no longer wish to carry with them. We made a large pot of spaghetti by combining a family-sized portion of instant noodle soup, one packet of instant ramen noodles, a generous dash of cooking oil, and a handful of mysterious vegetable-type powder. The result is an intensely salty, gooey, and slightly off-tasting pot of noodles. It was both filling and amusing.
In Sweden, the famed Scandanavian cold and rainy spring weather finally caught up to us. We hid out in our hostel for too much time, I regret. We found that the hostel kitchen had an amazing selection of free food, including cocoa powder. This discovery awakened my longing desire to bake. We end up finding flour, margarine, salt, sugar cubes, and strawberry jam... the makings of chocolate thumbprint cookies. These freegan cookies were shared with all those lingering around the hostel after dinner. One nice Danish couple lovingly placed their cookies on their pink lunchbox so they look like a pair of eyes.
In Finland, we spend our week there couchsurfing with 3 different hosts. Our first host was an energetic, young hippie couple who was preparing for a raw food diet. Their indoor garden of exotic chili pepper varieties, among other edible plants, and knowledge of wild foraging was very impressive. We went on a foraging walk, where we tasted a variety of edible plants, and collected some leaves for one of the best salads I've had in a long time.
A huge thank you to all the travellers who share their food with others, instead of letting it go to waste. A big bear-sized hug to all of the gracious hosts, who welcome and feed travellers and vagabonds with food and tales. We continue to be blessed with the generosity, laughter and friendship of the people we meet.
We read about Irish farmhouse cheese in our guidebook, but it was quite hard to find in the supermarkets. After a bit of research, a quick email and driving around in circles in the Irish countryside, we found ourselves in the company of the lovely folks at the production site of 
We spent a couple of meditative days with beautiful, enlightening beings at the 
In Germany, it was love at first sight for Berlin. A city that is bursting with history, art, and is just so goddamn cool, we were not the only ones floating on cloud nine. We formed a crew of equally smitten Europeans and North Americans, and spent days and very long nights laughing and exploring the city together. One of my favourite nights was when we cooked a communal pasta dinner in the hostel kitchen. There's something magical about sharing food with people that I can't find the words for right now.
We also stopped over in Hamburg for a few days to visit a couple of friends we met in Scotland a few weeks earlier. This wild port city is home to the Sunday morning St. Pauli Fischmarkt (fishmarket), where Saturday night drunken revelry can continue on well after the sun has risen. Live music, beer, and food vendors keep the mood lively and the crowds happy. The fish sold here is often caught in the waters just behind the pier, and some vendors were hawking their fish like an auctioneer. Given that I don't understand German, I could only guess what the commotion was: the vendor slowly and loudly fills a plastic bag with a variety of fish from his stand. When a buyer from the crowd is satisfied with the selection and named price, they step up and pay for the bag of fish. It was brilliantly simple, and highly entertaining.
Until next time, happy trails and guten apetit!
