I have a love-hate relationship with coins. I love that they’re money, but I hate pretty much everything else about them. They’re heavy, noisy, easy to lose but hard to get rid of.
I learnt the importance of getting rid of coins the hard way. I tried to get rid of my coins before I left Germany but no banks would take them. Fortunately my lovely friends in Hamburg offered to take them off my hands, unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
I suddenly found myself in Scandinavia lugging over 150 euros in coins through 3 different countries with 3 different currencies. It’s a lot like putting rocks in your backpack. Stupid.
In Norway I bought myself a ticket for a fjord tour. The man went out back to print my ticket.
On his return he found 800krona in coins neatly piled on the counter.
He looked at the coins, unsure of what to do.
“So, ummm, you’ll be paying in cash then?” he asked.
Some people are not so nice about it. I bought a local bus ticket in Italy. It was only a 1.50euro so I thought it would be a good opportunity to use up some of the annoying bronze coins I was lugging around.
I started counting out 1c, 2c and 5c coins. The man started to lose his patience.
“Do you have anything bigger?” he asked
I looked up from counting.
“No” I lied
I got to about 1.30 and ran out of bronze coins. I had to subtly pull out a few 10c coins. That’s when he cracked.
“No, no I can’t accept these coins” he said
“But you have to” I said, “it’s legal tender”
“I cannot! No one will take these coins.”
“I know, but you have to”
Stubborn Maya was out to play.
We argued a little longer. A line started to build behind me. I had all the time in the world, the shopkeeper did not. I won.
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