Showing posts with label Hostels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hostels. Show all posts

Saturday, August 21, 2010

My Revenge at the Wombat Hostel.

Sooooo....I didn't actually pee on anyone's bed, but I did manage to stumble home completely inebriated at 4:30 a.m., waking up as many people in my room as possible. Let's rewind.

Beni met me at my hostel at 10 a.m., which was fairly early considering I had not slept. I took the world's fastest shower because somehow all three Asian girls had shed enough hair to make a wig for someone, and had managed to get water all over everything. When is is humid and hot and there is water all over everything, this very peculiar smell develops that I can only describe as the rotting death smell of a 400 pound woman. Take that in.

So I shower, get dressed, and race out the door, already formulating my plot to get those little bitches back. We went to brunch at the top of this department store with amazing views of Munich's city center. After, we walked around a bit and actually hit City Hall at the exact moment (11 a.m.) the Glockenspiel went off. It was fun watching all the tourists ooh and ahh at the spectacle. Not to mention, City Hall is one of the most beautiful buildings I have seen.





Next, we climbed up what seemed like a million steps through very narrow corridors to the top of St. Peter's church for a panoramic view of the city. I loved the way all the buildings had a sort of rusted red roof top.



We walked around a bit more, taking pictures of churches and the Residence Hall.





Beni cooked this amazing pasta in curry sauce with prawns and unfortunately, I couldn't eat it all. I feel like in the past few days, I have eaten so much effing food. Or maybe it is due to the fact that everything seems quite heavy, and the food portions are ridiculously large. We then watched the season opener for the Bayern Fussball Club. Apparently if I am going to live in Germany, I need to learn to bleed Fussball.

By now, you're all probably wondering, "Sarah, pray tell how you ended up a shit-show, stumbling home at 4:30 so drunk that you almost didn't brush your teeth"? Well here it goes. One word: Australians. Fucking Australians.

I got back to the hostel around 10:45 and decided, despite the fact that I was a sweaty, nasty mess from the humidity that hell, I was going to go check out the bar in the hostel (the WomBAR. Cute, huh?) I went downstairs, sat at the bar alone and ordered a pint of fantastic German beer. Not 2 minutes later, these three Australians sit down next to me. I introduce myself. Before I know it, we're all playing pool together and telling war stories about drunken nights. Fiona, Marcus and Ben were actually not traveling together, but were sharing a room in the hostel (who thought it was a good idea to put three Australians in the same room???)

We start drinking several beers and talking, and at some point we decided to go explore the other bars in the area. Not sure of the decent bars, Fiona makes friends with a woman who I am still convinced was a prostitute, and she explains that the "strip clubs" near our hostel second as petri dishes for gonorrhea (oh, oh, and the 'ladies' all stand in the doorway of their respective establishments, scantly clad, indicting people to enter with seductive looks and hip thrusts. I shit you not). So this prostitute, I mean, really nice woman who just happens to be dressed like a whore, takes us to this club 900 blocks away. I take one look and tell the group 'fuck no.' I'm fairly certain this is the sort of bar where Snookie would have done a cartwheel with no underwear on. If I'm going to do Munich, I'm not going to a bar that looks chalk full of douche bag wannabees from the Jersey Shore.

Apparently the others shared in my sentiment and we started hiking back to the hostel. By this point, I have to pee so badly I'm actually weighing the pros and cons of pissing on the sidewalk and getting arrested. So we pop into this sports bar so I can relieve myself. We end up staying at this bar because a) it is open and b) because there are tons of drunk people with Munich fussball jerseys celebrating the win. Awesome. So we drink more. Because it's not like we weren't drunk enough already. We stay there for a few hours, making friends with all the drunk fans and a group of women who had a ton of sex toys. I pray to God it was a bachelor party or birthday party. I take that back. No, no I don't.

At some point we ended up at a dance club Fiona had frequented the night before. Unfortunately, the bouncer remembered exactly who she was and wouldn't let us in. She couldn't remember what had happened, but it must have been a doozy because he puffed up all big like a grizzly bear and told us to leave. I laughed so hard I couldn't stand up.

I think we went to Burger King here...

When we finally make it back to the hostel around 4:30 in the morning, I'm fairly certain I've had right around 8 German beers, which is the equivalent of me doing a keg stand for 30 minutes straight. I stumble up the stairs, unlock my door and throw it open. I see an Asian girl jump. Yess! I flip on the light. Another one shields her eyes and moans disapprovingly. YES!!! The other one hasn't moved yet, so I throw open my locker, which is right next to her bed, and as it clatters against the wall, she flies up out of the bed. I SO RULE.

Night two in Wombat Hostel: success.

Friday, August 20, 2010

August 20, 2010 (Morning in the EFFING HOSTEL)

Well, I may or may not have survived my first night in a hostel. Let's assess, shall we:

*It is 9:40 a.m. local time. I went to bed (let me rephrase, I physically got into bed) at around 10:30 p.m. I slept maybe a total of 4 hours. Do people in Munich fucking sleep??? Jesus Christ, I swear there were people, very drunk people, loitering outside the hostel until at least 5 a.m. Loud people. For fuck's sake! Every time I would almost fall asleep someone would yell, or start a fist fight, or break a bottle, or start fucking the person(s) next to them. Not to mention one of the girls from Florida must have had a deviated septum. That, or she was choking on a fan. Why is it always the well-manicured, high-maintenance girls that sound like a fucking train when they sleep??

When I finally did manage to fall asleep around 4:00, I was abruptly awoken by what can only be described as three Godzillas thrashing about the room at 6:00 a.m. Dear Asian Girls: I am going to punch you in your sleep. Better yet, I'm going to get totally wasted tonight and come stumbling in at 3:00 a.m., screaming and throwing shit. Maybe I will even pee on your beds. Because I cannot fathom how those two high-maintenance girls from Florida managed to leave without so much as a floor squeak, yet you three tiny girls made enough noise to wake baby Jesus 2000 years ago. Fuck you. Oh, and you smell funny. There, I said it. It's called deodorant.

The facilities are actually quite nice, but I feel like I'm bordering on the cusp of being too old to stay in one of these "youth" hostels. Oh well, at 20 Euro a night, I can't complain. Maybe I just need to drink more.

I'm not quite sure what today has in store for me, but I'm hoping it involves beer. And lots of pictures. And water. F. I really need water.