Sunday, December 18, 2011

The Perils of Hosteling

There is no microwa- THERE IS NO MICROWAVE IN THE KITCHEN?! WHO DOES THAT?

There are three beds in my room. The other two are taken by a couple of German guys.

I have to admit, even though I try to be chilled and non-judgmental about exactly that sort of situation, I raised my eyebrow. Most hostels are all for keeping the sexes separated, which I imagine just saves everyone a whole lot of potential hassle.

Eh, I told myself, eh. Do not be uncomfortable unless they give you a reason to be uncomfortable (although I did grumble about the idea of having to leave the room every time I wanted to get changed, pfffft).

They reeled back after five in the morning, giggle-drunk and trying and failing to be quiet with such ridiculous earnestness I had to hide under the doona so they couldn't see me laughing at them. These boys, they be okay. Getting home so late was a bonus, I got some alright sleeping done.

When I woke up, I had to punch down a laugh again. Drunks do not know how to drive doonas. The guy opposite me was face down on the mattress, with one corner of the doona bunched up around his face and the rest thrown on the floor. He was only in his undies. I was tempted to take a photo. The other guy had managed to keep the doona on the bed, but he had wadded it up and was spooning it. Also only in his undies.

In this situation, I am the menace.