Bethan's Birthday Bowling Bonanza (and other B words)

This week my friend, Bethan, turned 23. The same Bethan I travelled Europe with. The Bethan who got head-butted by a horse in Berlin, forced a drunken Irish man to take off his top and bench-press a keg in a nightclub in Prague, and is always my first choice for karaoke partner. Yes, that's the one.

To celebrate we went bowling. It's difficult to say which of us is the worst at bowling. Bushell seems to score quite highly. but that's only because we keep the rails up and he ricochets the balls off them. Hayleigh is particularly good at aiming her ball at small spaces where there are no pins to knock down. For my part, I repeatedly start off well, all strikes and spares, only to totally lose all control of my arms during the second half of the game, sending the bowling balls off in weird directions and eventually coming last out of everyone.

Actually, as far as the first game goes, I blame my failure purely on the garlic bread I was eating. I was too afraid to set it down when my turn came around in case one of my friends ate it or hid it somewhere weird so I took it along with me.  Unfortunately my brain couldn't grasp the idea that my right hand needed to release what it was holding (the bowling ball) whilst my left hand needed to keep a firm grip on what it was holding (the garlic bread) so I ended up throwing them both.

Naturally, as it was a celebratory occasion, we had some drinks. We each had one free drink as part of our package (along with chicken nuggets, burgers, fries, and all kind of glorious junk food) and, when I went to the bar to get my second I asked the barman, "What would be the difference between a Bells and a Jack Daniels?" (Look at me, being all frugal!)
The barman misunderstood, thinking I meant, what's the difference between these two different kinds of whiskeys. Really? I was wearing a Jack Daniels t-shirt and cowboy boots. This girl knows her whisky!
"No," I said. "I mean, the difference in price."

I did not add, "Anyone with taste-buds would know Bells is a scotch, while Jack Daniels is a Tennessee sour mash, most comparable to a bourbon."
As it turns out they were the same price (when does that ever happen?) so no prizes for guessing which I opted for.

When bowling was over (needless to say I lost both games) we went on an adventure. Or rather, we almost went on an adventure. We drove out to an old abandoned police station, sat in the cars discussing whether or not to go in, and eventually decided it was way too scary and drove away again.

But, creepy-horror-movie-type moment aside, it was a really fun evening. The only thing that could have possibly made it better is karaoke (although I don't know many places that combine bowling and karaoke). So happy birthday Bethan! Here's hoping you don't get too drunk this weekend.

My Life is no Fairytale...Yet

I'm back in Exeter, patiently waiting for my housemates to finish their exams and doing my utmost not to run into their study area with a bottle of tequila and demand someone entertains me. Instead, I've spent my afternoon looking up a half-decent questions tag for my blog (note to whoever writes these, 'what do you order at Starbucks?' is not an interesting or enlightening question). Eventually I found the fairytale tag and, as I am on board with anything Disney-related, I've spent my time typing away at this and avoiding housework. After all, I'm not Cinderella. 

"I am on board with anything Disney-related"

Snow White - Do you consider yourself beautiful?

There are some variables to consider here. For instance, am I wearing make up? Did I just wake up? Am I sober? Sometimes I can look in the mirror and think, "Oh wow! I look great!" but I'm always treading the line between Beauty and the Beast and you never know which way it's going to go.

Sleeping Beauty - How many hours do you sleep at night?

Somewhere in the region of 10-12 hours a night, which is slightly excessive.

Cinderella - Do you have a curfew?

It would be rather ludicrous for my parents to officially implement a curfew now that I'm 22 years years old, have been living alone on and off for three years and have proven myself to be an upstanding member of society (most of the time). They always know exactly when I return home anyway because I've usually forgotten my keys and have to wake them up to let me in. I'm a joy to live with all round. 

Rapunzel - Do you love being outside?

"I'm always treading the line between
Beauty and the Beast"

I'm no hiker if that's where we're going with this. I have hayfever, I'm allergic to insect bites and camping is my idea of the ultimate torture. In a world where you can get a room in the Premier Inn for £20, why would you choose to sleep outside on the floor? But I'm more than happy to be outside if it's on a beach. A warm beach. A warm beach with men who bring me cocktails. 

Red Riding Hood - Do you trust strangers easily?

Unfortunately yes. There was the time Kirsty found me making friends with a large group of Iranian men who were giving away free champagne. Then there was the time Hayleigh and I agreed to follow a group of army officers in posh suits back to an after party in the Grand Hotel. (Free gin? Why not?) And who could forget the incident in Venice when I led my friends into a wine cellar because the waiter told me he owned it? And that he had a gondola. 

The Wolf and The Seven Young Kids - Are you easy to fool?

See the above story concerning the man with the gondola who, in hindsight, had so obviously illegally broken into that wine cellar. 

The Little Mermaid - What would you sacrifice for love?

I'm a true romantic. That said, I don't think I would ever willingly give up my voice the way The Little Mermaid did. I'm sure there are many people who wish I would, but it would take a seriously amazing man to convince me to shut up for more than five minutes. However, there's plenty I would give up. I'd move away, I'd spend all my money, I'd set aside my plans...I wouldn't give up my shoes, though. That's not negotiable. 

The Frog King - What do you find disgusting?

There are many things I find disgusting, but what instantly pops to mind (probably due to some recent escapades) is the decline of chivalry. Call me sexist (I'm sure you will), but there is nothing more disgusting to me than a man who pushes past a woman in a queue, allows a door to slam in her face, or dashes for the last seat on the train and lets a girl stand. If this is progress, hand me an apron and count me out.

Jack and the Beanstalk - What plants do you have?

None. I have an excessive amount of mould growing in my bedroom in Exeter if that counts?

Puss in Boots - Do you have pets? If not, do you want them?

I have no pets. I have no desire to get pets. And I do not appreciate pet owners trying to force me to love their pets. You may see it as some kind of small child with fur, but I wouldn't take kindly to your real children slobbering over me and I don't appreciate it from the dog either.

Pinocchio - What is your biggest wish?

I've got my fingers crossed for a miracle. My nephew has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, which is a progressive muscle-wasting disease. My biggest wish is for a cure. 
Yeah, I know, way to darken the mood.

Peter Pan - What is your mental age?

My mother calls me childish. I prefer to think of it as a youthful inner glow. After spending some time at home I realised just how much I have in common with my niece. We love the same films, I envy her amazing pink dresses, we discuss Barbie at length. So, from that, I would put my mental age at four. No. Four and a half.

"We discuss Barbie at length..."

The Star Money - What is your most valuable possession?

I have some fancy mod-cons, I have my cute little car, and, when my Nanna was alive, she used to buy me expensive earrings (which I am too terrified to wear). But I'm very sentimental. My most treasured possession would be something left behind by my grandparents, photos of me when I was tiny and adorable, or the weird gifts my niece and nephew get me.

The Princess and the Pea - Are you sensitive?

Yes. I especially react badly to being shouted at. My neighbour shouted at me a couple of weeks ago and I cried for four hours. That probably had more to do with the fact that my dissertation was due in a few days later and I hadn't slept in nights, but, either way, I am still slightly terrified of him.

Bluebeard - What is your weak point?
Chocolate cake. That counts, right?

So there are some random insights into my life based on beloved children's stories...and some stories that I've never heard of in my life. Now all I can think about is chocolate cake so I'm probably going to have to buy some. Seriously, I'll never be fairest of them all if I'm popping out of my jeans.

The Weirdness that was my 2013!

At the risk of sounding like someone's great aunt, time really does fly. I can't get my head around the fact that 2013 is about to come to an end. It has been a fantastic year for me! I'm partly sad to see the back of it, but partly excited to see what kinds of adventures 2014 will bring. 

My Year in Pictures!

 I thought I'd do a review of the year with a little questionnaire, all about my 2013.

What was your favourite memory of 2013?

How can I even choose? This year has been crammed full of great memories. Over 20 of us went on a family holiday to Greece this summer. A particular highlight was when my sister-in-law and I drunkenly hid behind a tree to make bird noises at the others, totally oblivious to the fact that everyone could blatantly see our heads over the branches. The joke was on us as they sat, silently judging us. But my absolute favourite part of the year was the Eurotrip I took with my friends, Hayleigh and Bethan. Midnight police raids, humans with gills, giant penises…and that was all before we made it as far as Germany. If you’re intrigued (which you should be) I blogged all about it back in September. Trust me, it’s dramatic.

 What was your most embarrassing moment?

If I allowed myself to feel embarrassed I would have to immediately move to a cave, far from any kind of human contact. My life is just that full of socially awkward situations. I tend to scream at strangers quite often. I’m just so jumpy. If they happen to be on the other side of a door I open, or are within 3 feet of me when I turn around quickly, I scream in their faces. Loudly. And then scurry away with eyes diverted.

What were you most proud of completing?

My 3,000 word Acts of Writing essay. ‘Discuss the spaces in-between identity positions.’ I successfully managed to blag my way through 3,000 words of rubbish during one of the most awful weeks of my university life. For two whole days I didn’t leave my room and by the time I finally finished typing it up I had lost all feeling in my right leg because I’d been sitting down for so long.

What was the biggest risk you took?

Flying to Cologne to meet the Beacon for the first time. In part I was terrified of having a ‘Taken’ type scenario kick off (and it’s safe to say my Dad is no Liam Neeson), and in part I was worried that he would turn out to be a balding, 40 year old man instead of the good-looking guy I remembered. And then there was the risk that he wouldn’t like my shoes…

What was your worst habit this year?

Procrastinating! It is the curse of my life.

What do you wish you had done more of?

Reading for uni. I’m sure it would help with the exam I have next month.

What do you wish you had done less of?

Candy Crush Saga. Why do you plague me?

Have you positively influenced a child this year?

I got my niece a dress like the one she saw Eden Wood wearing in Toddlers and Tiaras…so probably not.

Did you suffer any illness or injury?

Amazingly no! (Although, let’s not tempt fate. The year isn’t over yet.) I am a doctor’s worst nightmare! Between allergies, low iron, and my general poor excuse for an immune system, I was pleasantly surprised to get through the year unscathed.

What was your favourite book?

Gone With the Wind. I’m just waiting for hoop skirts to come back in fashion.

What was your favourite film?

I really haven’t watched many new films this year. I think I only went to the cinema twice, once to see The Conjuring and once to see Disney’s Planes. I didn’t particularly like either of them, although I spent half of one crying into my popcorn and half of the other trying to get Lauren not to throw hers at me.

Describe your style for 2013 in one word.

...Aimee.

How old did you turn on your birthday and how did you celebrate?

I turned 22 and, to celebrate being a very grown up person, I had an Alice in Wonderland tea party. We had cocktails, tea cups, cupcakes, pink flamingos, playing cards, and all things quirky. I loved it!

What was a typical day in 2013?

When I’m in Exeter my average day starts at about noon. If I don’t need to go anywhere then I may or may not change out of my pjs, depending on how zealous I’m feeling. I will typically consume at least one Cup a Soup, crawl into Kirsty’s bed while she’s trying to work, avoid my own work at all costs, and bug the Beacon.

What were you doing most Saturday mornings this year?

Sleeping.

What were you doing at 3pm during the weekdays?

Sleeping.

What were you doing on Sunday evenings?

Napping.

How will you be spending New Year’s?

The Beacon is coming to Wales! I’m not sure if he fully understands what he has let himself in for, between my crazy family, the constant rain, overwhelming number of sheep, and indecipherable accents. But we will be spending New Year’s Eve at a golf club about an hour from where I live, where we will have a meal, entertainment, and copious amounts of alcohol. The next day I’ll be bringing him back to Port Talbot. Pity help him.

What are your New Year’s Resolutions for 2014?

I want to work on my blog next year. I’m finally ready to deal with my technophobia, which means I may also be experimenting with video blogs on Youtube…providing someone can show me how to make that be a thing. And to kick things off I’m going to attempt a January Instagram challenge. It will challenge my technophobia as well as my memory because I’m meant to post a different picture every day. Goodness knows how that will go. But I’d love some new followers (because it’s slightly sad if you’re uploading pictures purely for yourself).

My Instagram name thingy is aimee_oddball

What quote sums up your 2013?

“Guys, would you rather be a fish with lungs or a human with gills?” 

Happy New Year everyone! And if anyone does this New Year review post for yourselves I'd love to take a look. I promise I won't try and copy your answers or anything.

The Beacon and the Ball

Guten tag everyone! I would say my mini break in Germany this week has taught me some language skills, but that would be a lie because I stayed in a town that (Wikipedia has led me to believe) has the largest American population outside of the USA. I guess in some ways it was a cultural experience. I learned that Americans don't use duvets (despite the fact that, in my opinion, a bed is simply not a bed without one), picked up a new song called 'Red Solo Cup', which has been stuck in my head for 2 days and is slowly driving me mad, and came to conclusion that eating mac and cheese imported from the US is likely to cut about 5 years off your life expectancy.

"2 delayed flights"

I left Exeter on Friday 13th. My day started at 4:45am after 3 hours sleep, and I was dragging half my body weight in luggage through the city before the sun was up. At one point I was so tired and disorientated that I saw my shadow and literally screamed. Travelling on such an unlucky day, I wasn't surprised when I lost my train ticket and had to buy another one. I was slightly more surprised and considerably annoyed when I realised the man had charged me for 2 tickets. Come on! It isn't as if ticket inspectors work on commission!

After hauling all my bags out of the train station at Bristol (and then back in again to get to the ATM), I held up the shuttle bus by not being able to get my ridiculous case into the luggage rack. At first I was judging every man on the bus for their lack of chivalry, but then I remembered I looked like some kind of half-dead hag and so I couldn't really blame them. After 2 delayed flights and an unpleasant business at the Mac counter in Amsterdam, when the sales assistant kept me waiting for 30 minutes to buy concealer when there was no queue (and she, unlike the ticket inspector, was working on commission, so judge that logic of that for yourselves), I finally got to Frankfurt. By the time I got to Kaiserslautern my impatience with the entire world burned in my eyes and showed through my freshly applied 3 inches of make-up ("Yes, Beacon, I am just naturally this fabulous").

This is just the Beacon, being 'an enigma'

That evening I was thrown in at the deep end, meeting a room full of the Beacon's friends, all of whom enjoyed the novelty of my accent, but could barely understand what I was saying. It took me a while to get over the initial feeling of being in an American sitcom (surely that accent is always followed by canned laughter?), but everyone was lovely and I had a fantastic time. We played some kind of high-tech version of charades on the Ipad called 'Heads Up', which was hilarious. I highly recommend it. Then the Beacon tried to get me to take part in Just Dance on the Wii, which I declined for the health and safety of everyone in the vicinity.

The next evening was the night of the ball. In reality, it wasn't a ball. It was a Christmas party. I just insisted on referring to it as a ball so I could feel like Cinderella. I had sparkly princess shoes and everything! Although I don't recall Cinderella ever sitting on the sink in the bathroom, cursing under her breath at the mangled state of her feet.

Despite the fact that there were no Cliff Richard songs or Christmas crackers, it was so beautiful and festive. And everyone was so nice! I don't think that British people are particularly rude, but we do tend to have that 'British reserve'. We're a bit socially awkward, like Hugh Grant. Walking into a room full of Americans was like nothing I've ever experienced in the UK. Everyone was so keen to introduce themselves. I learned the names of more people in that party than I have people I've had classes with over the last 3 years in uni. Cue me drunkenly insisting 5 hours later that "Americans are just the nicest people in the whole world". Another couple of parties like that one and I may well be talking about how America is a beacon of hope for the rest of the world.

After the party, more or less everyone headed to a club in town and I could no longer escape inevitable humiliation. I cannot dance. Everyone I tell that to seems to think I'm either modest or crazy because 'everyone can dance'. Then they see my attempt at it and realise how wrong they were. Grinding being the preferred dance move of the Americans, the situation was more complicated than usual because I had to keep in time with the Beacon, who seemed genuinely stunned at how little rhythm I had. 3 different people attempted to teach me how to do it, but I simply could not get my hips to move the way they were meant to and, as always when I dance, my fingers started jabbing the air in wild motions without me having any control over them.

The next day was spent in large part recovering from the tequila shots and me fighting with the blankets (a problem that easily could have been solved by a duvet. I'm just saying). And in the evening things got all Christmassy. The Beacon and I went out to get logs for the fire and we watched Love Actually. I wore a tiny Santa hat with bells on, much to the Beacon's obvious distaste. What a Scrooge!

"the new love of my life"

And on my last night we went into town to explore a real German Christmas market, where I discovered the new love of my life. Crepes with melted white chocolate. Where have you been all my life? Needless to say, by the time I was done eating it there was white chocolate everywhere. It was carnage. But it was great. I washed it down with a mug of Gluhwein, which I suppose is similar to mulled wine. Whatever. It was warm and alcoholic.

The trip home on Tuesday took about 16 hours from start to finish. By then a large part of the festive cheer I'd acquired had worn off and I had morphed back into half-dead hag. But I had such an amazing time. It's always lovely to spend time with the Beacon. I especially appreciate being able to poke him, mess up his hair, and generally annoy him in all the ways our Facetime conversations don't allow. But this was an extra special trip because I got to be Cinderella...and stuff my face with crepes.

A Fabulous 48 hours...with the Beacon

After being separated from my laptop for an entire week, I am finally back in Exeter with access to my blog, the internet and, most importantly, Roller Coaster Tycoon. So now I'm able to share all the gossip from last weekend's trip to Cologne to meet up with handsome American I met in Prague and also say, "I told you so" to anyone who secretly doubted whether I would make it back alive.

My weekend away started with thirteen hours of travelling. From my house in Exeter, I walked to the bus station, caught a coach to Bristol bus station, had three people push in front of me in the queue at Greg's while I was at said bus station, caught the shuttle bus to the airport, got a flight to Amsterdam, almost missed my connection because people will insist on not labelling the airport gates properly, got another flight from Amsterdam to Frankfurt, and then drove from Frankfurt to Cologne in the Beacon's fancy car, all on a single glass of wine. Add to that the fact that I simply couldn't fit all my necessary liquid items into the one clear plastic bag I was allowed to take through security, and that trying to smuggle my moisturiser through customs almost tipped my stress levels over the edge.

Needless to say, by the time I boarded my second plane, I didn't look as alluring and sophisticated as I had hoped. The woman next to me probably thought I was going to have some kind of nervous breakdown as I waited for the pilot to turn off the seat belt sign so I could have a go at trying to make myself look presentable. There was a lot of twitching, drumming of fingers, and muttering under my breath until I safely had my make up bag in front of me and a glass of wine in hand.

Forty minutes later I stepped off the plane with a face so transformed that the air hostess didn't recognise me and I was ready to do the whole, "Yes, I naturally look this great after travelling all day in the rain" charade.

We stayed at the Radisson Blue in Cologne, which was quite a step up from a Travel Lodge, let me tell you. It was absolutely amazing, what with its high ceilings, huge television in the room, two types of showers in the bathroom, swanky little bar downstairs complete with swivel chairs, and staff that called me 'Madame'.

And so that night we sat in the swanky little bar, drank whiskey, talked, laughed, and rolled our eyes at the general lack of chicken nuggets.

My hopes for the weekend were simple enough. Be absolutely perfect at all times and don't humiliate myself in front of the Beacon. I didn't even make it twelve hours before that bubble burst. First I delved into my makeup bag only to find that I'd left my mascara on the plane. Then we couldn't find the hairdryer. So I was forced to walk through the streets of Cologne with pale eyelashes and my damp hair tied up in ridiculous plaits. I looked like a tramp.

To compensate, I got all dressed up that night. Curls, LBD, the full shebang. Unfortunately when I opted to wear my sexy new stilettos I didn't anticipate how far away the train station was...or how many different ticket machines we'd have to walk to because none of them were working. All I could do was smile and hope I wouldn't end up with an incredibly unattractive limp. I didn't want to replicate both the tramp and pirate looks all in one day!

In the end we gave up on public transport (something I wish I could do for good based on my track record with busses) and got a taxi to Pepe's Cocktail Bar. Apparently it is the place to 'see and be seen' in Cologne. I'm not entirely sure how that works as the lighting was fairly dim so I didn't really see much of anyone. But the people we did see, from the staff to the somewhat awkward-looking couple at the bar, we made up dramatic and intricate fictional lives for. Anyone who thinks people watching is boring really needs to reevaluate their life. Or just drink more, because as the cocktails went down the back stories of everyone around us got more and more impressive.

In spite of having had one Black Russian too many (for which I totally blame the Beacon), I was determined to keep an air of grace and sophistication. This was especially difficult for me considering I don't have much of either even when I'm sober. But, that said, I somehow managed to get through the night without making a fool of myself. And a lovely evening ended with us watching Halloween entirely in German. Having never seen the film in English I found it rather hard to follow, but I enjoyed the dreadful 70s outfits.

And then came Sunday morning and with it, a rush to stuff everything back into my suitcase, an airport breakfast, and another full day of travelling. I've spent more time in packed airport shuttle buses, sat on a bench in Schiphol Airport, and dealing with liquid restrictions in my hand luggage than I care to think about. But maybe...just maybe, the Beacon was worth it.

A Beacon of Hope

For those of you who didn't keep up to date with my Euro adventures, a) Where have you been? and b) I'll fill you in on the essential information.

So this one time, in Europe, I was innocently crawling my way through the pubs of Prague. I'd successfully spilled my last koruna's worth of Jack Daniels all over my new skirt and the poor guy who happened to be sitting next to me.

Adventures from my Eurotrip: Venice

So we've come to the last blog post about Europe. By this point we'd had more adventures and less sleep than I'd previous thought humanly possible in three weeks. We'd slept in bunk beds, train beds, fold-down tray tables and even in the Freud Museum. We'd visited eight cities (if you count Hamelin, which I'm not entirely sure anyone does) and now we were heading to Venice.

Adventures from my Eurotrip: Krakow and a Brief Stint in Vienna

So far during this Eurotrip adventure, my best friends and I have climbed the Eiffel Tower, failed to find space cakes in Amsterdam, watched an all-German rendition of the tale of the Pied Piper, witnessed a police raid, featured on German TV and visited a bone church, to name but a few of our little adventures. This blog post is about what happened after we waved goodbye to Prague and it stars somewhere near Krakow.

Adventures from my Eurotrip: A Whistle-Stop Tour of Prague

The police raids, children's activity camps and Pied Piper shows of Germany were behind us and now we were heading into what turned out to be my favourite city - Prague.

My preconceptions about Prague were hazy. I didn't have any expectation in my mind about what it would look like and the only thing I had to go on in terms of the culture was my mother's constant assurances that it was crawling with pick pockets. So, needless to say, I was a bit apprehensive when we got off at the train station in the middle of the night. Apprehension quickly turned into sheer terror.

We got off at the wrong station so, instead of getting out in the centre of the city, we ended up in a dark, semi-delapodated station in the middle of nowhere that apparently also doubled as a crack den. We didn't have any Czech coins to get on the metro and there were no taxis in sight. In fact, the only thing there was in sight was a petrol station. Bethan went in to ask for directions or a taxi number and reappeared a few minutes later with an enormous Czech man.
"This guy has a taxi!" She said.
'Oh great,' I thought. 'We are all going to die.'

By some miracle we made it safely to the hostel that night and when we woke up the next morning we were bright, fresh, and ready for more Euro-adventures.

We kicked off the day with a free walking tour, which is a MUST if you ever visit Prague. For such a small city, it has an immense history! For instance, we would never have known to seek out the church that had a decaying human hand strung up in the corner or have learned that the genius who designed the famous astronomical clock threw himself into its mechanisms to spite the king if we hadn't had a tour guide.

True, a day spent walking around the entire city is absolutely exhausting (my shoes were literally falling apart by the end of it), but we got to see all the main sights of Prague and booked ourselves a space on the trip to Kutna Hora the next morning (another must if you're ever in Prague).

As exhausted as we were after a full day of walking and learning, I insisted that we take the tour guide up on the offer of joining the pub crawl that evening. Hayleigh and Bethan protested that they were not, under any circumstances, drinking that night. We had to get up early the next morning to go to Kutna Hora and they were determined not to be hungover for it.

The truth of the matter is, no one can resist unlimited free absinthe shots and before we knew it, it was a louder, stranger, wilder version of that night in Berlin. Hayleigh disappeared into an underground ice bar for two hours with a stag party, Bethan forced some poor Irish men to take off their tops and bench press a keg, we made best friends with a group of Australians, learned none of their names, and proceeded to drink them well and truly under the table. Now there's patriotism for you.

It was at some point during this haze of a night when I met a guy who was very cute and very, very American. In fact, I seem to recall him saying that America was a beacon of hope for the rest of the world. Suddenly my thrashing of the Aussies at drinking games didn't seem so patriotic by comparison. That said, has anyone ever met an American who isn't patriotic?

After the best night out any of us had ever had (the Czechs know how to organise a pub crawl), we began the task of haggling with taxi drivers on the side of the road. Trying to find a taxi driver who won't rip you off in Prague is difficult to say the least.

The next morning we had to drag ourselves out of bed to go to Kutna Hora too see the Czech bone chapel. The story goes that in the 13th century, an abbot brought back some soil from the Holy Land and sprinkled it on the cemetery surrounding the Chapel of All Saints. Suddenly, everyone wanted to buried in that cemetery and eventually the older bodies were dug up to make space for the new ones. And what did they do with all those bones? They piled them up in the chapel or used them to make morbid decorations that adorn the chapel. Apparently the chapel contains the bones of 40,000 people!

Naturally, while we marvelled at the remains of the dead, Hayleigh got out her compact and started applying lipstick. I don't know who she was hoping to impress in a chapel full of dead people.

As well as the general tour of the city, the tour of the bone chapel and the tour of all the bars in Prague, we did a tour of the castle district. If you're ever in Prague and can't decide whether to opt for the castle tour or a tour of the city, I'd opt for a tour of the city. As much as I enjoyed the castle, tour, it didn't involve as many quirky stories as the general tour of the city.

At one point though, the tour guide asked if anyone could guess what special ingredient had been used to hold the Charles Bridge together.
"Love?" Bethan guessed with a completely straight face.
"...No." The tour guide responded, clearly not expecting such a bizarre answer. "Eggs."

Prague was by far my favourite stop on our Eurotrip. It's absolutely beautiful with crooked little alleyways and spectacular medieval buildings. It has an amazing history with all manner of bizarre stories. Plus, its' super cheap!

Next stop - Krakow.

Adventures from my Eurotrip: Hamelin and Berlin

At the end of my last post, we'd just managed to save our suitcases from the luggage attendant in Amsterdam and were about to board the train to Germany.

It was a simple plan. Take the night train from Amsterdam to Hannover, Hannover to Hamelin, and arrive in Hamelin in time to watch the Pied Piper show. There were few opportunities for us to make a mess of this. But sometimes fate will intervene and even the simplest of travel plans end with a run-in with the police.

It was almost midnight when our first train of the night came to a screeching halt in the middle of nowhere. An announcement over the loud speaker assured us there was no need to panic and that we were just experiencing some technical issues. The next thing we knew the police were boarding the train and arresting the men in the carriage next to ours.

As two of our fellow passengers were led away in handcuffs, we started talking to some guys who were also straining out of the window to see what was going on. And so we spent the night playing Danish card games and listening to renditions of happy birthday in 4 different languages with our new buddies, Martin and Michael.


Our train arrived in Hannover half an hour early at 2am (we were all still in our sleeping bags and pjs and all but fell onto the platform) and the next train to Hamelin wasn't until 6am. I'll sum up those four arduous hours in the train station by saying that Bethan slept in her McDonalds while Hayleigh and I played cards, watched by an ever-growing crowd of drunken Germans. Needless to say, by the time we got to Hamlin at 8am, learned that check in was not until 3pm, and wandered into town to take our seats for the famous Pied Piper show, the lack of sleep had taken its toll in the form of hysteria in Bethan and I, and a general hatred for everything and everyone in Hayleigh.

There are a few things you need to know about Hamelin.
1. It is not what you'd call a tourist destination. In fact, the only thing there is to see or do in Hamelin is watch the Pied Piper show.
2. Practically no one in Hamelin speaks English due to the fact that nobody ever goes there.
3. Absolutely everything is closed on a Sunday.

Nevertheless, the show was very enjoyable for those of us who weren't driven to the depths of despair by sleep deprivation, despite the fact that it was entirely in German and we had no idea what was going on. It wasn't until the show was over that we realised we'd done everything there was to do in Hamelin. So we went back to our hostel (which, in fact, turned out to be a children's activity camp) and got drunk on something that posed as German schnapps, but tasted more like a slow-acting poison.

One of the most monumental occurrences happened while we were in Hamelin. Bethan bought her 1 euro travelling hat. How quickly that hat went from being a gem, the best bargain she'd ever found, and a general great investment, to the bane of her life, purely because whenever we travelled she was forced to wear it and be judged by the locals. That in itself is a great indication of how little there is to do in Hamelin. Our highlight was the day Bethan bought a hat.

From Hamelin we went to Berlin, that wonderful city with its famous nightlife. Unfortunately we didn't make it far past the hostel bar on either of our nights there. Cocktails were strong, chilli vodka was free and Liverpudlians were in abundance. All around us, the non-Brits in the bar were sipping their wine in a civilised manner while we thrashed the English at an intense game of ring of fire. The next day the infamous carrier bag made a return.

By night we stayed in the confines of our hostel, but by day we were fantastic tourists. We leaned all about "that wall everyone keeps going on about" and wandered over to Brandenburg Gate. It was here that fate, with her insistence that our trip should not be in any way normal, intervened again. There we were, innocently trying to work out who this gate was supposed to be keeping out or letting in and why, when a film crew casually rolls up with some guy we've never heard of who is apparently extremely famous. Before we knew it we were extras in whatever bizarre sketch they were filming. We had absolutely no idea what was going on, but we were at the front, cheering louder than anyone.

Germany took from us many, many euros, much of our self respect, a fair bit of Bethan's stomach lining, and more sleep than we can hope to get back in the next 3 months. But what's more important is what we took from Germany, which includes, a new appreciation for that song, 'If you like Pina Coladas', the most ridiculous photos I've woken up to after a night out for a long time, some clue as to what the Iron Curtain was all about, and an overpriced piece of the Berlin wall.

Next up: Prague.



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Adventures from my Eurotrip: Paris and Amsterdam.

Good evening from Prague, where we have all gone well and truly mad from lack of sleep!

I'm currently 10 days into a three week long Interrailing journey around Europe with two of my very best friends, Hayleigh and Bethan. Originally I had every intention of keeping you all up to date with our travels by writing a new blog post every couple of days, but it turns out that trying to find a fully-functioning computer in a European hostel is as difficult as trying to find a space cake in Amsterdam (I'll circle back to that particular story later). The point is, I have a whole lot of drama and general madness to condense down into a reasonably-sized blog post so this one is just going to deal with our adventures in Paris and Amsterdam....and trust me, they are numerous.