Interrailing: An invaluable experience for young people or a bit of a rip-off?

Interrailing across Europe has become quite the staple of many young people’s post-school summers and gap years – a sort of rite of passage before going into the wider world of university or, god forbid, employment. It’s often presented as an invaluable experience – to gain a new sense of independence before leaving home, to see the world, to spend time with school friends before going your separate ways. And of course to let loose a little, to try things your parents never would have allowed, and to make use of the privileges being an adult now gives you (namely drinking as much as your heart desires).

My own Interrailing experience was simultaneously a massive stereotype and a little more unconventional. Our list of locations were just what you’d expect of a lads holiday: Amsterdam, Berlin, Prague, Budapest. But, believe it or not, I didn’t take advantage of Amsterdam’s liberal drug laws, go clubbing in Berlin’s world-famous clubs, get drunk off cheap Czech beers, or spend the night in any of Budapest’s iconic ruin bars. Sure, some of my compatriots did, but my personal aim was to be an absolute tourist – to go and see the sights, try the local food, take an unholy number of photographs, etc. In the end, I had control of the day’s programme, while the night’s schedule was more in the hands of my friends.

But whatever the version of the Interrailing experience one has, the question remains: is it worth it? Or are the multiple hundreds of pounds sunk into this experience a bit of a waste?

It was a one time only expense, for a one time only experience. So I bought my Interrail pass, and that was that – it was actually happening

When the suggestion of an Interrailing trip was proposed by one of my friends in the sixth form common room one morning, I confess I was initially pretty incredulous. Knowing our collective organisational skills, it seemed like a distant impossibility. When I brought it up to my family, they seemed to agree – it wasn’t really a serious proposal. However, much to my shock, and with little input from myself, I have to admit, this wild dream started becoming a reality. A route was planned out, hostels were chosen, and I was left to make a decision. I’d initially expressed interest when the plan was proposed at first, but now it all seemed a lot more real. I mean, we were talking about investing a lot of money to go wandering around Europe, and without my family at that – as the sheltered country boy I was, that seemed daunting.

My Mum was certainly a cynic, understandably not wanting to send her youngest child off into the wilderness without certainty of my safety, and demanded for me to affirm all the details, when such details simply didn’t exist yet. It was a decision I delayed again and again, but ultimately I thought I just had to. It was confirmed that the trip was going to happen, so I thought I surely couldn’t miss out. This could be a life changing experience, surely I’d regret not joining in for years to come. It was a one time only expense, for a one time only experience. So I bought my Interrail pass, and that was that. It was actually happening.

We not only saw the main sites of Berlin, but also went on a day trip to Potsdam and its impressive Prussian palaces, a particular favourite moment of mine

So began the great organisation – booking hostels, trains, and packing, oh the packing! Working out the maximum size of a bag for every train and plane journey (which wasn’t very large at all) while still packing enough clothes, toiletries, and just-in-cases for 10 days was a struggle. But finally, we were all ready, and it was the day we were to set off. It was a horribly early awakening so the six of us could rendezvous, journey down to London St Pancras and clamber aboard the Eurostar and across to the continent. The programme was pretty simple: two nights in a hostel in Amsterdam,  four nights in an Airbnb in Berlin (where a seventh member would join us), two nights in a hostel in Prague, two nights in a hostel in Budapest, then a cheap Ryanair flight back to Stansted. We were soon wandering the charming streets of Amsterdam, with its ‘interesting’ aroma, visiting the expansive Rijksmuseum (where I thoroughly pretended to know anything about art), and of course, a truly cultural experience, sampling the local McDonalds.

Then we set off for Berlin, though the journey didn’t go smoothly, with the inevitable autobahn train delays leading to a wait of hours, including a section of the journey which forced us to sit crushed together on the floor of a packed and boiling carriage – probably a low point in the journey, especially when that day was also capped off with an incident involving an Indian takeaway that ruined my favourite trousers and led to the rather strange image of me scooping up chicken tikka masala off a Berlin pavement with my bare hands. In the coming days it went on to pour leading to many a card game played in our little flat. When the weather calmed, or when we simply braved the weather, we not only saw the main sites of Berlin, but also went on a day trip to Potsdam and its impressive Prussian palaces, a particular favourite moment of mine.

And if nothing else, it was a chance to have a real good laugh with my friends – an awful lot of real good laughs

But after no time at all, we were whisked off to Prague for a little more comfortable journey through the rugged landscape of the German-Czech borders, and that was a city I fell particularly in love with. Though inevitably swarming with tourists, including many on identical trips to our group, I couldn’t help but admire such a picture-perfect city. For me, two nights didn’t seem like enough, and to pack up again and go to a whole other city, this time Budapest… part of me thought things were going too fast, that this was a little too much. But I managed to enjoy the last little piece of this great adventure, as I particularly came to appreciate the joys of Hungarian cuisine – truly underrated if you ask me. Then there was only one last trip to make to the airport, and through the skies back to English soil. And, as great a time I had, I was glad to be home.

So was it worth it? Was it really the trip of a lifetime? Well, maybe it wasn’t all that, maybe it wasn’t an absolute necessity, and maybe it didn’t change my life, but it was pretty good fun. And if nothing else, it was a chance to have a real good laugh with my friends – an awful lot of real good laughs. And as we have all since gone our separate ways off to unis all across the country, I think that’s worth something.