Ah, Berlin... This tale, my dears, may take some time, so put the kettle on and make yourselves comfortable. Our plucky hero pitches into Germany's illustrious capital not three hours after having tried to murder a man, a man who shall forever be known as 'that fat f***ing snoring b****** $*%#~}€*?!.' (I'm well aware that this site stars out all my naughty words... feel free to interpret.)
I'm a teensiest bit bleary-eyed, so I make a beeline to my first hostel, the Heart of Gold, described as 'a friendly and cheap hostel, inspired by the Hitch-hikers Guide to the Galaxy'. Instant win in my books, so I book it for a week, selecting the ominously titled MEGA-DORM, since it cost a blissful 9€ a night. It was a 32-bed warehouse, and combined with the name, I was expecting a Mad Max style affair, an every-man-for-himself war for beds and showers. Thirty-two go in, only one comes out.
And of course, it was empty. Quel surprise. Well, most of it was empty, but as I trudged the halls, wondering what time the local serial killer would turn up to collect me that night, I found a relieving tableau of two unmade beds with associated backpacks. It seemed a little odd to choose the bed right next to two strangers I hadn't even seen yet, but it was that or sleep in a far corner of the warehouse. Alone. Naw, thanks, I choose life!
I take the rest of the day sedately, grabbing some lunch, and having the tiniest of wanders, well aware of the bags under my eyes, and the protests of my battered body. I roll in for the evening, and meet my fellow inmates. Ever seen Flight of the Conchordes? Yeah, those two, except American. SAY HI ANDREW AND CHRIS! They're polite and friendly, but most blessed of all, they're prepping for an early night too. Praise be for sleep! And sure, one of them snores like a warthog (I'm pointing no fingers...), but it is as unto nothing compared to what I've endured already. Its by far the best nights sleep I've has in a long time, and It. Is. Awesome.
There's much walking and talking over the next few days, and a couple of interesting characters picked up, including the brainiest Albama-ian I've ever met (not a hard task, but credit where it's due. Extra points for being called Rock, and STILL having two braincells to bang together), and two Aussie ladies, one with a most impressive Cornish accent. They were also from Canberra, which should immediately be replaced as the Australian capital, based entirely on the fact that I always thought it was Perth, and boy did that make me look silly.
As an aside, it was three days into our acquaintance before Chris and Andrew picked up the gay vibe from me. I'm surprised, since rainbows fly out of my arse and I sneeze purest pixie dust (supposedly), but maybe if you're American, I just seem really, really English. and probably a bit villainous too, at that.
Anyhoo, que a wild night involving FAR too many jaeger-bombs (Did you know everyone else make them with Red Bull? Beats the jaeger/beer combo we have...) with a whole bunch of people whose names I can't remember, due to a very coy game of gay/straight/European with a strapping Aryan boy from Frankfurt. The answer is European by the way. If you have to play, it always is. *sigh*
The American Conchordes depart shortly after, but not before bestowing upon me the wonderful gift of music... not that yours was bad Haley, my sweet, my pet, but Bowie + Talking Heads + Jefferson Airplane + The Smiths + Alice Cooper + The Pretenders + Kiss equals a pretty solid musical victory for Andrew.
Rock and the others all filter out by tuesday, and I find myself... well, moping a bit. Seems unlike me huh? But Berlin was always an adventure I intended to have with someone else, and by mid-week, I really felt that I'd had all the juice sucked out of me. On top of that, I had a new room-mate who... well, it was a long story about a Kazakhstan visa and a wedding and a Chinese passport and an mind-boggling amount of sexism (hey girls, I hear you'd rather DIE than lose face in front of your peers. I think there's a few ritual seppuku's to be had amongst you...). It wasn't a joy ride, lets say, and the poor boy insisted upon seeking my wise counsel about it. FUN. But things were, of course, not going to stay gloomy long...