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guslMonaco youth hostel intentionally woke me up by turning up their radio (this is my biggest pet peeve: the moments after awaking, I really need silence. Otherwise, I can easily get mad and blow up.)
Findind out that the Cap D'Agde nudist resort doesn't just let people in after dark. After some calling around to reserve a table for one at a restaurant, and trying not to sound like a pervert, they finally let me in. There, I watch the biggest (only) outdoor go-go club I've ever seen. I get asked to leave from an outdoor club that's for "couples only".
Barcelona hippie roommate blamed me for ending their loud pot party next to my room. All I did was report that I couldn't sleep.
Thinking I had gotten scabies, just as I visited my cousins in Portugal. Turns out they were just some very itchy bug-bites from Barcelona. I went shopping for a new set of clothes as my every rag (including *their* sheets) was being "disinfected".
In Santiago de Compostela, my jam-mate and new "friend" Oscar gets drunk, and yells at me that I have no heart. Then he tells me that my violin will be stolen before I leave France. Then he forgives me, says he loves me and gives me a big hug and kiss. Jeezus Christ!
Basque bar kicked me out for thinking I was spying on their separatist activities. All I did was take notes about their interesting propaganda.
My digital camera was stolen *FROM MY ROOM* (and probably by a roommate) in Paris.
Being personally insulted and kicked out of Bob's Youth Hostel in Amsterdam by Bob himself. I was guilty of checking out late, but I tried to convince him that I had been treated so poorly (two unnecessarily, unasked-for room changes, plus sb else sleeping on my bed) that he should give me back my deposit anyway. I was majorly pissed off.
Having my calling card PIN stolen on the street in Amsterdam. I had over 100 minutes to talk to Hartmut with, but somebody used it up calling Morocco for 12 minutes.
London strip club manager and his big Turkish friend charge me 55 pounds for nothing and threaten me (fist pounding on the table: "Don't FUCK with me!!!", etc). I see through his act and walk away. They had falsified a beer order and then showed me a clause on the menu: "non-members will be charged an extra fee of 50 pounds"... the cute playmate calling me "asshole" was the most tempting part though. Those guys know their psychology, but I couldn't believe such hustlers existed in London (which supposedly had tight regulations).
Findind out that the Cap D'Agde nudist resort doesn't just let people in after dark. After some calling around to reserve a table for one at a restaurant, and trying not to sound like a pervert, they finally let me in. There, I watch the biggest (only) outdoor go-go club I've ever seen. I get asked to leave from an outdoor club that's for "couples only".
Barcelona hippie roommate blamed me for ending their loud pot party next to my room. All I did was report that I couldn't sleep.
Thinking I had gotten scabies, just as I visited my cousins in Portugal. Turns out they were just some very itchy bug-bites from Barcelona. I went shopping for a new set of clothes as my every rag (including *their* sheets) was being "disinfected".
In Santiago de Compostela, my jam-mate and new "friend" Oscar gets drunk, and yells at me that I have no heart. Then he tells me that my violin will be stolen before I leave France. Then he forgives me, says he loves me and gives me a big hug and kiss. Jeezus Christ!
Basque bar kicked me out for thinking I was spying on their separatist activities. All I did was take notes about their interesting propaganda.
My digital camera was stolen *FROM MY ROOM* (and probably by a roommate) in Paris.
Being personally insulted and kicked out of Bob's Youth Hostel in Amsterdam by Bob himself. I was guilty of checking out late, but I tried to convince him that I had been treated so poorly (two unnecessarily, unasked-for room changes, plus sb else sleeping on my bed) that he should give me back my deposit anyway. I was majorly pissed off.
Having my calling card PIN stolen on the street in Amsterdam. I had over 100 minutes to talk to Hartmut with, but somebody used it up calling Morocco for 12 minutes.
London strip club manager and his big Turkish friend charge me 55 pounds for nothing and threaten me (fist pounding on the table: "Don't FUCK with me!!!", etc). I see through his act and walk away. They had falsified a beer order and then showed me a clause on the menu: "non-members will be charged an extra fee of 50 pounds"... the cute playmate calling me "asshole" was the most tempting part though. Those guys know their psychology, but I couldn't believe such hustlers existed in London (which supposedly had tight regulations).
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What An Adventure
Date: 2003-01-01 03:43 pm (UTC)