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Robert Reid’s World Worsts

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Name Robert Reid
Who? The US spokesperson and travel editor for Lonely Planet. He has written over two dozen Lonely Planet guidebooks (including Trans-Siberian Railway, Romania, New York City and Myanmar). Raised an Okie, he now lives in Brooklyn, New York. He blogs at reidontravel.com and lonelyplanet.com.
Age 41
Countries Visited 30+


Titanic Nominations
1. Worst Roads Romania is part of the EU but don’t tell that to the narrow roads and their potholes the size of Buicks. After a week’s worth of driving across Transylvania, I felt lucky getting out of there without a scrape — or a collision with a racing Dacia in the wrong lane on a blind curve. The best part though is watching the occasional horse cart, sweeping triumphantly off ancient paths on a hillside, across the highways, and up over other hills and out of sight. They have no use for the roads.
2. Worst Airport Link No place in the world rips off airport commuters more than the sweet NJ Transit to Newark’s airport — that is, IF you’re coming in from New York City. It’s  a plain ol’ commuter train (not much place for your bags) but charges $15 per person for the two-stop, 24-minute trip. That MIGHT be okay if it weren’t triple the cost if you get off a stop before or after the airport. Meanwhile, NJ Transit’s hour-long ride to the airport from Trenton, clear across Jersey? Yeah, it’s $9.25. Probably just payback for New York stealing Liberty Island.
3. Worst Executed Tourist Scam In Red Square, one guy dropped a wad of dollars at my feet and walked on ‘unaware.’ Another appeared, stooping to pick up the money, then — thoughtfully — turned to me and offered to share the booty. I turned and hurried off. Now, the kindness of Russians — in private quarters or on trains — can shame the most charitable people of the world. But in public places? Offering a few thousands dollars because I happened to be nearby? No way.
4. Worst Sports Fans A friend and I were impersonating Manitobans at a Canadian Football League game in Baltimore between the Winnipeg Blue Bombers and Baltimore CFLers (seriously, that was their name). Before we could get to our seats, Baltimore was up 14-0 and we were pelted with handfuls of ice and profane abuse from dads and young children (’look at the scoreboard assholes!’).
5. Worst Hotel I arrived at 3am on Christmas Eve to Meiktila, Myanmar, and all the private hotels were full.  I didn’t want to stay at a military one, so I lingered at a lakeside guesthouse run by a family. After a minute or two of foot shuffling, the staff told me to wait and cleared a tiny broom closet, put in a single bed with a thin mattress and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed for bugs. ‘Five dollars. No free breakfast though.’ I had to keep the door open all night for the fumes. It was ugly and cramped: a windowless box, with spiders immune to bug spray. But I was happy to have it.

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