There was that time I travelled to New York and was faced with the painful fact that despite my 25 years of age at the time, I apparently still look like a little kid - or at least so the bartenders insisted in the majority of clubs and bars we visited. Whether it was because the fines for selling alcohol to minors are crazy hugh in the States or if it was because I really do look like a baby, I don't know, but little can make a grown woman feel like a child (in the bad way!) than having another grown person refunsing to serve you your drinks because they don't believe you're off age, when you haven't had to bring ID to clubs in your own country in years. Yes, I am aware that the drinking age is slightly higher in the States than it is in Denmark, but I still surpass it with several years! Grrrrr!

The beaches in Miami were free of hazzle and drug dealers on probation though!

There was that time I couchsurfed across Florida. The concept of couchsurfing was quite new to me at the time, but I had had my first go at it in Ecuador at the beginning of the same trip. Two months across the Andes ending with a week of relaxation in Florida (talk about culture shock!). Miami was the first stop, and I had arranged to couchsurf here too. From the airport I went straight to my host's house (or at least I tried to - the house numbers made no sense whatsoever!). Looking a bit lost, I met a man who insisted on giving me his phone number so I had someone to call I case I didn't managed to find my host's house and I needed help - don't ever try to tell me people from the States aren't friendly, and this wasn't a one-time case of kindness from a complete stranger I encountered! I eventually found the neighbourhood, but that really wasn't much help with this bizar arrangement of house numbers. Then I ran into a guy who lived in the area who walked me a few blocks to find my host's house (never mind the fact that I spent those 15 minutes listening to him going on about how he was on probation for dealing drugs, and all cops were really sick bastards, and oh hey do you wanna buy some drugs or something, you into that stuff?).

Once I finally got to the house, my host wasn't there, so I decided to wait outside since it was getting dark and I had no idea where to go. That wasn't really a problem in Miami though, because the air was really warm and - safe for drug dealers on probation, the area actually felt really safe (I shouldn't be too hard on the drug dealer guy though, he was really nice to me and never pushy and to be fair, I had never found the right house if it wasn't for him). But damn, those mosquitos!!!

Once my host finally showed up he was quite surprised to find me there. Some misunderstanding about when I was gonna show up, it turned out to be, but he felt so bad about it that he took me out and bought me dinner that night as compensation, and I eventually had a great time staying there (safe for the stiff neck I got from the constant overuse of airconditioning, which is apparently a big thing in the states!).

Once I got settled in, Miami turned out to be a really cool place. I had a bit of a struggle overcoming the culture shock though, since I came straight from two months in the Andes region of South America. I knew this from the laughs I got from my host when I asked with concern if it was okay to take my wallet with me when I went out, or if i should continue to hide my money in shoes, as it had been my strategy in Sout America. I likelwise found it a strange sensation when I went downtown and into a store to have a look around, just to have the lady at the counter try to give me a complete style make over. It mostly felt weird because I really didn't need her help - I wasn't usually a personification of a hopeless fashion no-go, I was just wearing my most primitive travel clothes since I didn't feel like taking anything fancy with me while backpacking. The feeling followed me around over the next couple of days in Miami, where needless to say, the general hygene was far more advanc- OH MY GOD, is that marble in a barthroom?!!! And at a McDonalds, for real??? That looks like real marble, yes I think that's marble, for sure!

I didn't get to drink butterbeer in Hogsmead, but at least I got to meet this guy in Disney World instead!

There was that time in Florida when I went to Orlando to visit Disney World (yes, I did - I was 23 at the time and I stand by my choice!). To be honest, booking the ticket to Disney World was sort of an accident - I am a big Harry Potter fan and had seen on the Goblet of Fire DVD that a new Harry Potter theme park would open in Florida in the Spring, which just happened to be the time when I was going to be there (note to producers: If you're going to announce on a DVD which is launched world wide that the park will open in the Spring, you better be damn sure that is actually going to happen! Needless to say, you failed that one!). The park hadn't opened yet by the time I was in Florida, which was probably for the better since I had apparently been somewhat psychotic when I bought the ticket and instead of booking tickets for Universal Studios, I got tickets for Disney Land! Maybe the park not opening on time was just punishment for my stupidity.

In Florida I couchsurfed again. My lovely host Jacquiline was so kind as to pick me up at the bus station (which was lucky since I had no idea where she lived!). She even drove me to Disney World when I couldn't figure out the bus system...hey, don't look at me like that, she couldn't figure it out either, and she lived there!