I Left My Hostel At 3am This Morning Because Of Room Cunts
I had to make an early break from the hostel. The dorm I was staying in was tiny and there was barely any fucking room for bags.
I tried to go to bed after last night’s post but I couldn’t get comfortable and every time I moved someone else in the room would move too. I found this infuriating and I wanted to invite the entire bedroom into the ensuite for a clear the air royal rumble.
What infuriated me most was that the bastards kept closing the windows every time I tried to open them for fresh air. It was suffocating in there.
I made the decision at 2am to get the 4am night bus to Prague and then a connecting bus to Vienna at 12pm to give me time for lunch.
I managed to get some rest until Dresden when a very loud couple got on behind me. They wouldn’t shut the fuck up and my nerves were shot from no sleep whatsoever. Not knowing what to do I just placed my head against the hole at the back of the seat and stared at them. A standoff developed. The man said something to me in German. I refused to respond or even blink my eyes. I kept staring and it started to get tense. I swallowed my pride after a minute and looked away and they quietened the fuck down after that.
I got to Prague with a new found appreciation of how fucking pretty the place is! I went to a Burger King for lunch and was so tired that I could not operate the soda fountain. A Czech man showed me the wonders of the magical button labeled PRESS that dispenses the beautiful sugar water. I felt like I was in an outtake of Bill & Ted where they go back in time to transport the world’s dourest Irishman to the shiny shiny future.
Thank you Czech man.
Prague to me is a strange place. It was there, six years ago, that I first entertained the idea of running a marathon, in a bad attempt to win the affection of a wonky headed little lady. Alcohol and running have always been tied for me so it is a little sad for me that it took 6 years to realise the negative impact it was having on me. Better late than never I guess.
Running in Vienna for my life or my death
I knew there was gonna be little chance of me running this evening unless I ran to the hostel from the bus station. That’s why I went for it full on with my backpack and ‘professional’ clothing.
The run may have only been 5km but it felt like a fucking marathon. There’s little more stressful than running through a busy city centre you’ve just arrived in. I did that 5k in 40 minutes which is my worst time ever. Everything went wrong. My bumbag broke off. My jeans were dropping off my arse. Austrians were cackling in my direction. I may or may not have been swearing indiscriminately at a town I had only been in 20 minutes.
But I completed that run. I ran a 5k on no sleep whilst carrying all of my laundry and gadgets on my back, all whilst being dressed like a mentally ill University lecturer.
I am in Vienna and I’m going to fucking bed now before the visions start again. I was on a bus today for 10 hours.