Ich bin ein Berliner

Sometimes you just know that it's going to be one of those days. You can't put your finger on it, but it's almost like there's something in the air, and you can just feel it.

Today was one of those days.

It started in the morning... well, I guess technically it started the night before, as I checked into my hostel in Berlin. I had reserved a bed online in Prague due to having been turned away from a couple full hostels of late, and I arrived to claim my space. The friendly German man greeted me, handed me a key and fresh linens, and pointed me toward room 121.


For those of you that have never been privy to the hostel experience, as a single traveller, you sleep in a dorm room. You could book a private, but they're often not much cheaper than it would have been to book a hotel, whereas a dorm bed runs about $25 a night - which includes breakfast. So it makes sense. Some dorms sleep 16, some sleep 8. This one slept 4.

So, I headed in the direction in which I had been pointed, pausing for a moment to consider if I had mis-understood as I opened the door to the 'Women's Dorms'. I elected not to be insulted by his insinuation and continued on to room 121. My key worked, so I shrugged and went in.

Now, at this point, things were looking up. None of the bunks had yet to be made up, so I might end up with a private by default, and of course, visions of being the only man in the female side of the hostel already had me thinking: 'Dear Penthouse, I was travelling through Germany in the summer of 2009 when...'

The good news is that I indeed ended up with the room all to myself. The bad news is that I woke up the next morning never once having been hassled in the middle of the night to come next door and judge yet another kissing contest.

And that's when it became one of those days.

For, you see, instead of a floor full of uninhibited 20-somethings, too liberal to bother wearing a towel to and from the showers, I was instead treated to about 15 or 20 giggling tweens. All yammering in high-pitched German, probably about Twilight or Zac Efron... at 6 in the morning.

But that's ok. I wanted to get an early start anyways. For, you see, today was the day I was to meet up with Kenni. And the sooner I left, the sooner we would be sitting on a patio in Copenhagen, drinking pints of Tuborg.

I'm on a boat, motherf@#ker!

Unfortunately, being one of those days, I should have known that by making haste to the ferry terminal in Rostock, I of course, would discover that the next ferry didn't leave until 5pm. So, I waited. 5 hours. Plus 2 more on the ferry.

But, in case you're wondering, it was totally worth it.