No cents in this currency business

THERE are things I wish globetrotters could have warned me about before I left for Europe. I convert everything I buy to rand and it makes no financial sense.

For instance, over the weekend in downtown Helsinki in Finland, I went to McDonald’s to buy a Big Mac meal, it was € 8.4, which is about R135. That was insane, considering the fact that I could've got three meals for that price back home.

Excuse my stinginess, I hope by the end of this week I would stop converting prices before I buy anything.

The truth is, if I continue like this, I’m not going to get anyone any souvenirs and I doubt that those close to me will be happy with me. But honestly, euros are not for poor people like me.

Speaking of euros, there’s this amazing culture of healthy eating that is practised by the Finns. They eat greens (grass).

Just the other day, I had a three-course meal of all greens. I appreciate that there are health benefits to eating green, but I am a meat-lover.

The first thing I am going to do when I get back home is go to Soshanguve to have skopo (sheep head), tlhakwana (trotters), mogodu (tripe) and tlhogo (cow head).

I’d rather starve myself than eat greens. That’s not me.

After all, “no matter how hungry a lion gets, it will never eat grass”. I’m a lion.