Arrived in Amsterdam with my hostel reservations in hand. It was raining, so go to test my backpack cover and rain jacket. Both seem to work just fine, although the rain quickly eased off.
Jumped on tram #1, as per hostel's instructions. Got off at the correct stop, but was confused by both the directions, and my terrible map. Asked some locals, and even they could not figure it out. Finally, went into a hotel, where a nice guy gave me a better map, and clear instructions.
It was right around the corner, very lively neighbourhood, to put it mildly. Found the Granada Hostel, was buzzed in, and went up to the second floor. Told him I only wanted it for 3 nights, not 4. He said why. I told him 57 euros for a dorm bed on Friday was rediculous. He said he would see what he could do.
Went up 2 more narrow flights of stairs to room 26. Opened the door, and it was fairly dark, could see that several people were sleeping. Its now about midnight, by the way. Briefly turned on the light to see my bed number - great, and upper bunk again.
But the room, oh my god, besides the fact there were 4 bunkbeds stuffed into such a small space, the room looked like a used clothing store had been blown up by terrorists. Clothes, shoes, underwear, packs, and lord knows what strewn around everywhere. And the noise, the french doors were opened to let fresh air in, and people outside the windows were literally screaming. Dogs barked, horns honked, sirens wailed, and everytime the bar door was opened, the horrendeous sound of a live rock band blarred out.
It did not tense up, I did not freak out, I just kind of snickered to myself and said - this is what adventure travel is about.
Decided the best plan was to stack all my stuff on the upper bunk with me; besides there was not a square inch of space to put anything on the floor anyway. Settled into bed, and just listened to the deafening din. About half an hour later, a tipsy Englishwoman comes into the room (this is a mixed dorm). She mumbles something to her friends about someone taking her bed. Ah, that could explain the pair of women's panties I found when I first crawled in.
I apoligized to her, and said that was the bed the front desk had assigned my. She said no problem, and crawled into the next bunk.
About and hour later, there was a knock on the door. No one seemed to hear - where they somehow sleeping with the loudness? More knocks, and finally Miss English wakes up and lets her friend in.
And what an enterance. Door opens, in falls her friend facefirst on our floor. Not even a step. Very Patsy and Edina.
She lays on the flour explaining to her friend she got into a drinking contest with some guy, and she won. She claimed she drank 30 vodka shooters. Her speech and smell seemed to confirm this fact.
You don't need further details, except to know is was classic girlfriend helps other in need. The toilet got a good workout, and they generally just babbled for about an hour.
Again, no stress.......... I am a traveller!
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