The Adventurous Explorer.

I met Enea at a cafe in Miami Beach. He is Italian and he is 32 years old. He tells me he has been travelling for quite some time now, he smiles while he tells me about California, doubts about New York’s cold weather and because of his tanned skin, I can tell he definitely loves Miami Beach.

He is the silent type of person. The one who observes and enjoys the diversity around him. “You don’t see these kind of things back in Milano”—he says with perfect english and a slight Italian accent while staring at two wild latin girls. One wearing a leopard print dress, the other wears one hot-pants and a white halter top. Both wearing high heels ready to party at a local club. “Back home, everyone wears black”. “Funeral black? Or elegant black?” —I ask. “Elegant black”.

The next day we go to the beach. Being European, walking seems only natural to him. He dresses casual white shirt and jeans, flip-flops and a small backpack where he carries his laptop. “Let’s see what’s going on later” —he says opening Yelp! and looking for a place to party. “Of course, finding wi-fi is such a task in itself, I’ve learned all the wi-fi passwords in the area, so I can connect at anytime.” —he tells me while he shares the password when I try to connect my iPhone. Google Maps, Yelp! and TripAdvisor have been his best friends these days, without these tools, his traveling life would be just a little bit too difficult. Mine as well.

When I ask him, he says he would think of himself as an explorer. He says he likes to meet new places and people all the time. He tells me he is an entrepreneur, that meeting people and doing business is what he does best. Who knows. To me, he’s just another European guy having too much sun and fun.

I can tell he is not a luxury traveler. As with other travellers, money along with accommodation is one of his primary concerns, however he appreciates comfort for a reasonable price. “It’s a shitty hotel the one I’m staying at, but it’s only $35 a night, and literally, I just cross the street and I’m at the beach. You can’t beat that.” He says with satisfaction that he made a smart choice.

When he learns that I’m from Guatemala, his eyes open wide. “I know nothing from South America” —he realises. “It’s not South America. It’s Central America. There’s a difference, you know?” —I reply.

This is the first time he’s been to America, and of course he knows nothing form this side of the world. “How expensive is it?” —he asks. “It depends of what you call ‘expensive’” “Can I live with 50-70 dollars a day?” “Most likely you can. It depends. However, if you want to know, you’ll have to come.”