I've recently spent some time looking through all the documents on my computer, I found this piece which I wrote in December. I figured I'd post it anyway. :)
15 minutes down, 4 hours and 45 minutes to go. He’s probably the first mumma’s boy I have seen, off screen I mean. It’s pretty lucky that the lady taking the tickets kicked me out of the front seat, it was the only free 2 seats together left on the whole bus. I was late of course. I made it to the bus, obviously, but the plan was to get up well before I did, and get the train to the interstate bus stop. “Save a few quid” as they say.
Well when making that plan I hadn’t counted on being put in the worst hostel room yet on my trip. Everyone has different definitions of bad when it comes to hostel living. I can put up with most situations- mess; for example, actually come to think of it maybe I can’t. the shower was hopeless, but provided more privacy than most. The shower room had quite a good set up really. It wasn’t divided into male and female, damen and herren. But each shower had its own little room, to change and store clothes. Some of the places I have stayed in don’t provide such luxuries. My dignity when out the window a while ago. Anyway, the room smelt like boy, stale boy and feet, hot feet. Stale boy and hot feet, makes feel like revisiting the sandwich I had for dinner last night. The heater on at such a high temperature was just making it more smelly. So we have a hot smelly room, as a general rule I only book into mixed dorms. They are always cheaper, and maybe surprisingly not as messy as girls only dorms. The lady who checked me in showed me to the room, sitting in there was a medium to large guy on his computer eating chips. The table provided wasn’t really big enough for more than one person – with his computer, phone, chips all spread around.
I met the other ‘room’ mates in the common room that evening. I first went in to have some dinner; the sandwich I brought from Bröllin that day, and my apple. The radio was on pretty loud, but that’s ok, I like German radio. I understand most words on the radio, enough to get a general picture of the topic, but I usually have no idea what they are talking about. Anyway, a girl came in to have dinner, she had a book with her. I was trying to get on the internet, but failing at that time, so just writing a bit about my day.
I smiled and said she could turn the radio off or down if she wanted, I wasn’t paying attention anyway. We started chatting. It always starts with “oh you’re Australian” “and you are American?” Nine times out of ten the conversation that directly follows relates to the number Australians travelling. “Is there anyone in their 20s left in Australia? Everyone is in Europe.” Or “I think I have met Australia’s whole population in Europe.” It’s good though, being Australian, on the whole Australians are generally liked, and if you hear an Australian accent there is a pretty decent chance you will get along. All this is another story. The guys I met were Polish I think. I have no issue with Polish people, just letting you know where they were from.
After about 2 hours of trying to get online and chatting to this American girl, about everything from kids in Marrakesh stealing her food, to the morality of an 8year old shooting a deer, and working in Africa and Cambodia, I decided I had to get online to find out about the tomorrow (today) and get ready for bed. The internet worked in the dorm room, which was pretty pointless as I couldn’t breathe in there. After 10 minutes I went to the shower, as explained above, there was no water pressure, but the drain wasn’t clogged so it didn’t flood up my leg- biggest plus of all. I came back into the room, I have to admit being the only girl in a dorm room, at 10PM in your pyjamas is a little awkward.
So I made it quick- packed everything away, got clothes ready for today and got into bed. For whatever reason, some people are really courteous and some aren’t. For example – level of voice, lights on/ off, talking on the phone on loud speaker, watching movies with no headphones, etc. At one am, when the lights finally went out I thought that would be the end of it, after lying in bed for an hour and a half with my iPod on pretty loud to drown out their sounds, I thought now I can get to sleep. That’s about the time the medium to big guy started snoring.
Most people snore a little bit, in a 10 bed dorm, there is always bound to be someone snoring, but this guy takes the cake. Which I guess is a pun, he couldn’t breathe properly, it was like breathing when you have a cold, a really bad cold, no, that’s not good enough, it was like a boat engine. It was so loud he woke himself up. All in all, it’s a miracle I made it to the bus. I think the train from Pasewalk [which is the closest railyway to Schloss Bröllin] to Bayreuth where Christiane is was going to cost me about 80-90 euros. I thought I’d be clever and get the bus for 35 euros. But this bus leaves once a day at 8:15am.
Right, so I couldn’t get the train from Pasewalk at that time, I don’t even know if there is a train that would get me there in time. So I would have to leave the day before, stay a night at a hostel and then get the bus. So the 35 euros became almost 80 by the time I paid for the hostel, train to Berlin, and 2 taxis as I am carrying so much stuff, bringing a new meaning to cleidungs-pferd [clothes horse]. I took out 100 euros on Saturday, hoping I wouldn’t need any more than that until Spain, I was hoping that would get me to Spain. I have less than 2 euros left. I am looking for a four letter word, beginning with F that rhymes with truck. The good news is I made the bus, so I don’t have to worry about another nights accommodation in Berlin, and buying a new ticket. 9:24am. Why is this taking so long. Leipzig- 70km, Munich- 463km. And Bayreuth? 4 hours away.
Let’s get back to the real reason I pulled my computer out on the bus. The mumma’s boy. I have no real proof, I don’t even know if she is his mum, she could be his wife. So, the man, I shouldn’t say he is a mumma’s boy, what do I know? As the bus pulled out of the terminal, the hostess gave us a little speech about what to expect; the toilet, purchasing food etc. I should mention it is a normal sized bus, with 3 staff. Really, is 3 staff really necessary. The driver, the hostess making the coffee and snacks, and some other guy, security maybe, what do they think we are going to do, run amuck? On year 8 camp to Portland in Victoria a few of the guys used their swiss army knives to tear up the seat belts on the back of the bus. Clever huh, they got sent back to Melbourne. We were 13, 14 then, I don’t see what a bunch of too cheap to buy a train ticket people are going to do, but I’ll keep you posted.
The hostess, I keep typing hotel.
The hostess was telling us about all those important things to remember, and I got the gist of what she was saying; they have newspapers and if you press the little red button above the seat, where the air con comes out, she will come over and take your order. I can’t remember what she said that the time when the man, maybe 45, maybe younger turned to the passenger behind him and snickered. That’s when I saw the screwed up pieces of paper in his ears. Not even ear plugs. Surely that can’t be good for you, and what use would it do, maybe stop air getting in, but noise will still get through.
Maybe you could try it and let me know?
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