As if Holland wasn’t small enough to travel around, if you are really pressed for time, you can visit the whole country all in one day by visiting Madurodam. Madurodam is a miniature “city” located just outside The Hague, Netherlands.

Madurodam is a scale model of the country and all the attractions and geographical features that make Holland famous. You can see the canals of Amsterdam, the Red Light district, Rotterdam harbor, Maastricht, Utrecht, the dikes that made Holland famous, castles, government buildings, and windmills. Madurodam even has an airport, beaches, little cars, tin people, and trains running through it. In fact, there’s pretty much a scale version (built to a scale of 1:25) of anything of importance or shows the daily life of the country.

There is even a mayor. In 1952, the teenaged Princess Beatrix was appointed mayor of Madurodam. Today, the mayor is elected by a youth council consisting of 25 students from schools in the region.

This major Dutch tourist attraction (it sees millions of visitors per year) was first built in 1952. It was named after George Maduro, a Jewish law student who fought as a member of the Dutch resistance and died at Dachau concentration camp in 1945. His parents donated the money to start the Madurodam project and since then it has just grown.

Thirty five people build and maintain the city. Every year one or two new buildings are added, while older ones get taken away.

I visited Madurodam with Guido from Happy Hotelier. I had heard about the city on a previous trip to The Netherlands and Guido, who lives in The Hague, agreed to indulge my inner child and take me. (Knowing someone with a car is wonderful.) Arriving there, I expected this amazing Legoland version of the country and, though I didn’t find that, I thought the “town” was still pretty interesting to wander around. The detail on the buildings is exquisite and they really put a lot of work into the smallest details. At night, 50,000 miniature light bulbs light up the city.

If you take photos at the right angles, the buildings can fill the frame enough to look like the real thing and you can pretend you actually visited the place. Mostly, I liked watching the airplanes “take off” from the Schiphol Airport, though the décor inside is a bit dated from the 70s. I just wanted to run on the tarmac and play with the planes like an eight year old boy.

Madurodam is open all year round. It is open from 9am to 9pm and tickets cost €12,50 for adults; children are €9, and adults aged 65 cost €11,50. You can get here by car or take the tram from The Hague Central Station. It is tram 9 or bus 22 in the direction of Scheveningen.

I wouldn’t make the half day journey from Amsterdam to see this site. It was interesting but to eat up a whole day for this? I’m not sure it was that interesting. But if you are looking for something a bit more off beat in a country where you end up seeing lots of canals, historic buildings, and art museums, make your way out here when you get to The Hague.

I need your help. Over the last four years I’ve produced over 1,000 pages of content on this website, which I can only assume have been helpful to people since my Google Analytics tell me I get return visitors and I don’t think my parents can hit refresh that many times!

So as I dot the I’s and cross the T’s on my book, I would like to include you in it.

If you have used this website and it has helped you to travel better and cheaper, I would like a quote from you about how my website had helped you.

If you have used any of the companies I’ve recommended in this book (tour companies, hostels, backpacks, booking sites, etc.), and liked them as much as I have, I would like to hear from you.

I’m going to create a section in the book quoting readers who have used any of my advice to improve their travels and I really hope that is you!

If you send me your thoughts, you’ll get a credit in the book for contributing. If you have a website, I will list your website too.

If you are interested in providing me a quote (and I really, really hope you are), e-mail me at:

nomadicmatt@nomadicmatt.com

Please title your e-mail “Nomadic Matt Book Quote”

I don’t often ask for things from you all but if you have used my website, it would mean the world to me to get a quote from you. I will be forever grateful.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

- Matt

P.S. – Penguin Books requires you to sign a release giving me permission me use your quote in the book. Apparently, it’s a legal thing.

With the end of my trip coming hard and fast, I’m at a crossroads. As I prepare to move on to the next stage of my life, two roads lay ahead of me and I’m not sure which one to take. I’ve always had this dream of living in Europe. I’ve traveled Europe a lot but I want to live in one place, learn the language, and experience European life as a local, not a tourist. I’ve always envisioned myself living in Paris, enjoying cheese, wine, smoked-filled cafes, and strolling down cobblestone streets at night with pretty French girls. But I think the life I imagine in Paris is the one I’ve seen overly romanticized in the movies I too often see. The Paris of the silver screen is different from the Paris of everyday life.

As I’ve come to that realization, the other city that most appeals to me in Europe is Stockholm. Paris pulls me with its mystique but really, Stockholm is more a realistic option. I have many friends there, the city is one of my favorite in the world, and I love and want to learn the language. (Plus, Swedish girls aren’t too bad on the eyes either!) The thought of living there over the spring and summer really excites me. Sweden in the summer is bursting with life and energy. After all, they don’t get a lot of nice weather up there so when they do, the Swedes take full advantage of it.

But the fork in my road is not between Paris and Stockholm. It’s between Stockholm and New York City. Or as my friend Jason has told me, it’s a choice between a veiled attempt at extending my trip and coming to terms with finally settling down.

And, in a way, he is right.

My soul burns for the Big Apple. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about it. When people ask me where I call home, New York bursts out of my mouth without thinking. There’s nothing I don’t love about New York City. Seeing status updates from my friends and events I’m unable to attend makes me homesick for it even more. As I write this now, I can’t help but feel sad not being there. I belong there and when all my journeys do end, it is there I will reside.

But you don’t get do-overs in life. Opportunity knocks once. Doors open and close all the time but when a door closes, it locks itself. As Robert Frost once wrote in the The Road Not Taken, “Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.” Once you go down a path, there is no turning back.

If I move to NYC and skip Stockholm, will I ever get another chance to live in Europe as a (semi) young, carefree guy? Will I end up settling down, finding a girlfriend, putting down roots and then missing my chance to, just for a bit, be wild and carefree in Europe? Will I regret the missed opportunity?

Or will I move to Stockholm and hate it? Will I long for New York while I am there? Will I resist putting down some roots because I know Stockholm wouldn’t be forever? And would that become a self-fulling prophecy where it’s not forever because I resist making it that way?

As the clock ticks down to zero, I wonder if I’m really just trying to prolong my trip. Maybe I just want to be Peter Pan forever. When I go out, I see young backpackers, wild and carefree, and I think to myself, “Can’t I just stay in this world a little longer? Just one more month won’t hurt.”

After all, when my book comes out next year, I’ll have to come back to America anyway. Stockholm would just be temporary. Is spending 6 months in Sweden just a way for me to spend another 6 months living out of my backpack, trying to be Peter Pan a little longer?

I know I want roots. I want to have a gym. I want friends to call. I want restaurants where I can become a regular. I want the local hangout.

But as the end nears, I’m afraid. Travel is all I know. It’s part of who I am. I haven’t settled in one place since I started traveling. Even when I stop for awhile, I always know I’ll be moving on again. While I’ll never stop traveling, I’m worried I won’t deal well with being settled in one place and having roots.

Maybe Stockholm is my “bridge” from traveler to semi-nomadic.

I had hoped that as I wrote this article, I might come to some conclusion. I’ve agonized over this post for weeks but as I write this, I’ve realized I’m just as lost, unsure, and confused as ever. Writing out my thoughts and feelings didn’t help to decide which road I want to wander down.

As I weigh both options, I want them both. I wish I could create a clone!

But I know how way leads to way, there’s only one road I can take.

As January rolls into February and February rolls into my flight home, I’ll have to decide soon which road I want. I just haven’t figured out which road that is yet. I guess I’ll just stare out at the fork in the road a little longer, waiting for a sign.

A secluded beach in the Buccaneer Archipelago of Western Australia

Dear Backpackers of Southeast Asia,

We need to talk. I love you. Truly, I do. I’ve been a backpacker for a long, long time now. I love being one and probably will consider myself one for a long time to come. But while backpacking through Southeast Asia over the last few months, I’ve noticed some disturbing behavior that we really need to talk about.

To be blunt – why do you act so damn stupid sometimes?

I’m asking because I’m a concerned friend. It seems like when many of you fly to Southeast Asia, you check your intelligence at the boarding gate and decide that risking your life in the pursuit of alcohol-fueled, drunken excitement is a smart thing to do.

And that really concerns me.

For starters, let’s talk about Vang Vieng, Laos. Now, I can’t walk down a street in Asia without bumping into a backpacker wearing that damn “I went tubing in Vang Vieng” shirt. And when I see it I wonder – why on earth would you think jumping into a shallow river while drunk is a good idea?

Twenty-two people died this year alone. You could end up like this guy who just died. Or the guy in this video who cracked his head open.

There is also this guy.  Him. Or her.

And those are just the examples I found on the first page of Google!

I mean, seriously, if we were back home and I said “Hey man, let’s go get blind drunk and jump into a shallow river. Oh, and if something goes wrong, there’s no real hospital anywhere to get help. It’ll be fun!” how would you react?

You would look at me like I was crazy. And rightly so.

This is not a good idea. Nothing about it this seems remotely like a good idea. Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with getting drunk on some lazy river or partying at bar near a river. Heck, crack me open a Corona and sign me up for both. But this? Foolish.

There’s also something called “The Death Slide” next to this river – it got the name due to all the people who have died using it, which begs the question — why are people stupid enough to keep using it?!

People say it’s a tragedy when something terrible happens in Vang Vieng. No — a tragedy is someone getting in a car accident or a house burning down. What happens in Vang Vieng is sad, but it’s simply Darwinism. I have no sympathy for someone who decides to do this and gets hurt. When you play with fire, you’re going to be burned. And since you are my friend, I don’t want to see you get burned.

And while we’re on that subject, let’s talk about fire.

I love fire as much as the next person. There’s something primordial about it, but I don’t like putting myself in situations where I’ll get burned. Why do you? Throughout Asia, I see backpackers jumping the “fire rope.” You know, the rope that locals light on fire with gasoline and then have you skip across it like we’re in the 5th grade and playing double dutch.

Here’s a tame version of what happens to some people:

You may be the world’s best jump roper but the drunk guy who decides to join you might not be. While you’re skipping rope, a bunch of drunks decide to join you and pretty soon, you’re on the ground scrambling away from the fire in hopes of not getting your face burned. I recently watched a guy get the rope wrapped around his arm and burn all the skin off. He was rushed to the hospital. I’ve seen people fall on the rope and burn their face, hair, and clothes. I’ve watched people trip on the rope and land in the gasoline.

Fire + alcohol + random drunks = bad idea.

A second degree burn is not the memory you want to keep from Southeast Asia.

Finally, let discuss your ability to drive a motorbike – or lack thereof. Everywhere I go I see people with injuries: bandaged legs, huge exhaust pipe burns on their calves, and broken limbs. When I ask what happened, it’s usually the same answer – “I got into a motorbike accident.”

Back home, you wouldn’t drive without a license, so again, why do it here? Sure, the bikes have small 150 cc engines and are pretty slow. On a nice and easy road, you’d have no problems.

But driving in Asia is not like driving back home. Here, drivers overtake people on tiny one-lane roads, they don’t look, they stop short, and they speed like they are in Nascar. The roads aren’t in good condition, either. They are often windy, steep, take sharp turns, and filled with potholes. Plus, besides the crazy traffic in Asia, you have to deal with all the other backpackers who decide it’s a good idea to rent a bike they have no idea how to ride.

I’ve seen too many crashes and near misses here in Asia.

Sometimes I wonder – who the heck are you traveling with that lets you do these crazy things!!!?

Sure, I’ve done a number of stupid things while traveling. Things I’m not going mention because my parents read this website, but I’ve never done anything stupid enough that it would jeopardize my life or health.

I love a good adventure, but I also like to be alive. These aren’t things you would do back home, so don’t do them overseas. Sure, it may seem like a good idea at the time — most everything is when you’re drunk. But when you end up like all those people in Laos, or get 2^nd degree burns, or scars from a bike accident, it suddenly isn’t such a good idea, is it?

You’re my friend. I like hanging out with you. I want to keep hanging out with you.

But can we cut the stupid shit? It’s incredibly dangerous and makes all of us seem like drunken idiots.

Sincerely,

Matt