Okay, the dates on these are all messed up. Oh well.
After a much needed sleep through most of Saturday, I was sat up in bed when Michelle breezed in at 6pm, straight from the club where she’d been for the past 13 hours. She looked like she was just coming back from a quick visit to the shops. I don’t understand that girl. She quickly showered and headed back out to a house party. She invited me and I declined, like a sane human being.
I tidied the flat, packed my bags, limbs aching, groaning with the exertion of it all, and headed out. My week of crashing was up, and it was time for hostel life to begin. I lugged my cumbersome bags onto the U Bahn and made my way via three trains to the Generator Hostel in Prenzlauer Berg. I was sweating like a bitch, having foolishly put on as many clothes as possible to make my bags lighter. It didn’t make them lighter, it just made me hotter.
I walked the wrong way around the building trying to find the entrance and got stuck in a building site. I couldn’t be arsed lugging my bags back around, so instead found a gap in a railing, booted my bags through it, and slithered underneath like a mad worm. I arrived at reception red faced and shiny and gross, still suffering immensely from the partying that afternoon.
I checked into my dorm and found three Kiwi guys there, Graham, Alex and Will, from Christchurch. There was also a giggling, slightly built Israeli guy who was travelling after his mandatory army service, which so many young Israelis do. They were all heading out that night and pre drinking, so I bought a couple of beers and sat on my bunk talking to them until one in the morning, when they left.
The Kiwi guys were cool, and reminded me of my own friends back home. They’d been travelling Europe for 2 months, and had another few months ahead of them. It’s funny meeting people from the far side of the world who have travelled in Europe far more than I have. We talked about their hometown, Christchurch, which I’d been to back in 2014. It’s a desolate place since the enormous earthquake that levelled much of the city in 2011. The guys were actually in the midst of it, and were telling me what it’s like to experience an earthquake measuring 6.3 on the Richter scale. Bad, was the general consensus.
The Israeli guy was excitedly preparing for a night at Berghain. He dressed head to toe in black, wore New Balance trainers, and eyeliner. He was bobbing around the room telling us graphic stories about sex shows he’d been to – I’m not sure how it came up in conversation, to be honest. He bounced out of the dorm and came back around 7am, breathlessly telling us that not only did he actually get into Berghain (a rarity), but he also had a threesome.