Mhairi Blair undertakes the Grand Tour for less than a grand

Ryanair. An airline infamous for having a less than luxurious outlook on life. Environmentalists regard them as the devil incarnate and bringers of the apocalypse; the more long-limbed of us struggle to stand straight after a long flight with them; and it won’t be long until they begin to weigh customers before boarding: “You’re two pounds heavier than you stated when you purchased your ticket, sir. That’ll be ten pounds plus tax. Enjoy your flight!”. 

However, let us confine this Ryanair-bashing to the dustiest corners of our memories. Utter the name to a student traveller, and stand back to watch a metamorphosis take place. Regard their tranquil smile; the multitude of happy memories lighting up their eyes; and most importantly; scarper before they begin to expound to you the eighth wonder of the world that is affordable air travel. If you are of the opinion the world is needing to purge itself of those annoying people who relate to you, ad nauseam, of their summer adventures, couple the name ‘Ryanair’ with ‘Interrail’ and see that traveller sink to the ground, writhing in a fit of ecstasy, at the memory of the unfettered bliss of train travel round Europe.

    The  opportunities offered as a result of affordable continental travel are limitless. Backpacking is not just a medium to explore a city, it’s a voyage of cultural discovery, a meeting place for the most diverse of individuals and perhaps most importantly, jolly good fun, what ho! Our trip began in Paris, with the ‘City of Light’ disappointingly overcast. The beauty of Paris lies not in the admittedly stunning  monuments, but in the charmingly rustic buildings and inconspicuous churches; the bread-and-butter foundations to the ostentatious façade that Paris presents to the world. Outside the bustle of Paris lies Versailles, a symbol of the breathtaking decadence of the French royal family. The crystalline incandescence of the Hall of the Mirrors (can there be any place more renowned to pose for a mirror-Facebook photo?) is slightly marred by the scant reference to the treaty that was signed there. The hidden joy of exploring tourist favourites such as Versailles is the titbits of information you can only stumble across  whilst there. No hefty divorce battles for Napoleon: his solution to leaving his wife was having her painted out his pictures.Madonna, take note. 

So, from Paris to Berlin with Amsterdam in between. As a first impression, the neon brutalities of Amsterdam don’t compare favourably with the old-style romance of Paris. The reality of hostelling shone through in Amsterdam - whilst sitting  playing patience in the corridor of the hostel at 2am waiting for friends to return, a series of thuds sounded from the room next door. A girl emerged, holding a plastic bag, looking dishevelled but satisfied. She explained there was a rat in the bag, I explained why it was perfectly natural to play lonesome cards games in the small hours of the morning, and a feeling of acceptance pervaded, no matter how bizarre the behaviour.

With yet another border-hop behind us, we reached Berlin,  fearsomely historical city that is oddly complimented by its cosmopolitan edge. Berlin is like a jigsaw of an Escher painting - the pieces will fit together to paint a city that is simultaneously modern but classic. It was in Berlin our resolve broke and we succumbed to the allure of Europe’s second largest department store. We left guilt-laden, but purses considerably lighter - our ‘Europe on a shoestring’ was shrunk to an even less substantial ‘Europe on a spaghetti strand’ budget - bread and cheese beckoned for the remainder of the trip. Delicious. 

Three hours on a train later and we arrived in Munich, where the polar opposites of beer culture and the grandeur of Conservative Germany smash together to produce a city almost halved by wealth. Munich is delightfully kitsch - in the shop windows, Cavalli and Valentino pieces intermingle with ‘Lederhosen’ and the ‘Dirndl’. The traditional German atmosphere is intensified by the famous beer-halls. Fun fact no. 23A : the reason behind clinking your glass is not founded in some polite social custom ; it is in order to splash some of your drink into the other person’s glass, a not altogether hygienic custom, with a surprisingly practical basis. Back in ye olden times, when royalty-poisoning was rife, if some traitor had laced the King’s beer with poison, his would-be killer would perish with him, once the beer was transferred from glass to glass. 

    Narrowly avoiding death from the poisoning scoundrels of Munich, we moved on to Vienna. Aimless wandering pervaded, punctuated by a swim in the Danube. Having caught every train with ease until this point in the trip, we has a slightly blasé attitude toward our eye-watering 6.30 a.m. departure time. After a desperate jog of ‘tube station, lost, tube station, still lost‘, we emerged onto a long straight street with no indication of where the ‘Sudbahnhof’ train station was. Massive rucksacks are of course conducive to happy sprinting, but surprisingly, we managed jump on the right train with ten seconds to spare. Smooth.

    Our Viennese whirl over, our next port of call was Trieste in Italy, in order to be close for our flight home and relax at a beach for a few days. However, Ryanair’s game of ‘Pick-an-airport-and-a-city-within-a-vague-radius-and-say-we-fly-from-there’ proved to be the metaphorical spanner in the works. Nevertheless, using our tentative Italian, we managed to navigate our way to the airport and bade goodbye to the continent. Perhaps the most prominent advantage of a backpacking holiday is the total freedom from tour buses and other tourists gimmicks. There is no better way discover a metropolis than when you have total liberty to delve into every nook and cranny. Each country’s unique cuisine never tasted so sweet as when eaten against a backdrop of its birthplace. Go forth and backpack, my friends. My parting shot is now something of a 21st century cliché : Interrail ticket £130. Flights : £100. Exploring a city with a knee-shattering rucksack: Priceless.