Swollen Ankles, Thunderstorms and "I will make sex with you"...

Decide to head the to the train station and book my ticket for my journey to Bucharest later on tonight. But for some completely obscure reason, the train is FULL. I can't quite get my head around this. The train -to Romania - is full. Bizarre. So with my tail between my legs, I ehad back to Tiger Tim's and have to book in for another night. I have now stayed for 6 nights, despite only originally booking in for 2. Oh dear.

Starting to get the blues a bit form drinking too much....tired and emotional just about covers it. Decide I'm definitely NOT going out tonight; it may just tip me over the edge.

End up going to bed at a bout half 10, and for some reason, having a little pity party all to myself. Pathetic to say the very least! Eventually manage to get to sleep, but am woken up by the Australian coming in to my room about 3am. It was actually very sweet, and we decide to get up and watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (which we have been planning to do since I arrived), but the remote is hidden, so that plan is pretty much scuppered.

As we head down the stairs though, Australia, who is pretty drunk, trips on the stairs and goes flying over the banister. Not only does he knock me over (resulting in a big fat swollen ankle/cankle), but he almost knocks himself out....he's lying at the bottom of the stairs in a little crumpled heap, not really moving or making any noise at all. Problem.

He eventually comes to, and we head to bed, me with a bruised ankle, and him with a black eye. And of course I am awake most of the night in a constant state of flux and panic that he might die have a fit or something....

Luckily no deaths though. Phewf. We get up in the afternoon again and head for falafels again - my last Budapest falafels! Back at the hostel I get packed and ready, and head off for the train station about 5ish. Feeling a bit sad about leaving, and have another little pity party to myself on the train (cue a packet of kleenex and Damien Rice on repeat).

The train journey is going to be a long one; probably about 17 hours, so have a long night/day ahead of me. Up until 11pm, it's all fairly uneventful...eating, sleeping, listening to music, and watching the most intense thunder an lightning storm out of the train window. Then a member of train staff - a rather large, middle-aged Romanian man called Alex - comes over and tells me that the restaurant is open. I head through for a coffee, and Alex offers me his sleeper carriage, as he is apparently working all night.

I grab my rucksack (though there are a few alarm bells ringing in my head...) and head through. Before I know it, Alex has appeared with a bottle of red wine for me. I make light work of it, and he brings another. And bizarrely, a plate of sausages, just in case I am hungry.

And this is when it starts to get a bit too creepy, even for me. He beings to insist that I stay at his house while I am in Bucharest. Eh...thanks. But no thanks. Then he offers me a massage. Yes. A MASSAGE. Again, I politely decline, and ask what time he is due to start work again. It's just after midnight by now, with a thunderstorm in full force outside, and it strikes me that I am entirely alone on a train to Romania....

Alex says that he is not working tonight after all, and that if I fall asleep, he will "make sex with me". Apparently, he is "just a man," and that it would be impossible for him to not. By this point I'm actually getting a bit frightened, so I tell him in no uncertain terms that he's not going to make anything with me, and that I'm moving carriage. Luckily he seems to accept this without much argument, and I move a few carriages away from him.

Despite this though, I think I will be sleeping with one eye open tonight....

Falafels, Karaoke and a day date....

So....I wake up in the hostel, which is a bonus, but sadly not in my own bed... instead I wake up in the bed of the 19 year old. In what can only be described as an attic room with barely the space to sit upright. Living the dream! Although I am fairly horrified by myself (though not much moreso than usual...), he's absolutely lovely, funny and makes me smile. So therefore I am completely justified in my outrageous and debauched actions.....right?!

Didn't emerge from his room till late afternoon (sightseeing? what sightseeing?!), and by this point we were starving so heading to the Hummus bar for some falafels. Just what I need. Falafel my life! Eventually decide to do something vaguely cultural, so head to Gellert hill, which has beautiful views over the city. Was lovely; so peaceful and a perfect place to chill out.

Manage a power nap before starting some solid drinking and heading back out, this time to an open mic night (thankfully no participation from me....). As standard, wake up in the Australian's bed again. Don't surface till mid afternoon, by which time I am almost ready for a beer again!

Head out for the afternoon with Seb, an English guy who is staying at the hostel. We wander past the parliament, then take the funicular up to the castle, St Matthias Church and the Labyrinthe Caves....amazing. We buy a couple of beers for the way back, which is totally necessary given the heat outside, then head back to the hostel. Another chill-out, then right back on the booze again, ready for a night of karaoke nonsense. Pretty sure I start the night defiant that I WILL NOT BE SINGING, and after a few beers/shots of whatever, the microphone practically has to be wrestled from my grip. A brilliant night all round though...it's Jaii and Amanda's last night in Budapest, so we kick the arse right out of it and make it a good one :-)

Next day is pretty much a repeat of the previous three....creep out of Australia's room in the afternoon then we go to the hummus bar for falafels. Decide we should go a walk up Gellert hill this afternoon, and it's sort of like a date. Do get some strange looks from people in the street, who can't quite figure us out (reminder...I am older, taller and bigger than him. we look odd to say the least...) but have a really nice time. I am very happy in Budapest; it's a brilliant place to party, relax, explore and meet people.

Supposed to be leaving for Bucharest tomorrow, but feeling a bit bittersweet about it right now. As per usual, I have become far too attached....

Budapest.....Swedish boys, dancing, stolen wallet and 19 year olds...

Manage to squeeze myself in to a packed little carriage bound for Budapest. It only seats 6 - there is me, an old Hungarian man and 4 Swedish schoolboys, who look utterly petrified by me and can barely look me in the face. Though I do make the best of efforts with them (not sure if offering them alcohol from my stash is the way forward though....) they are all shy boys. Oh well...

Nonetheless, me, the Hungarian professor and the Swedes manage minimal conversation on the ENDLESS journey, and the professor warns me about thieving gypsies in Budapest, and insists that he will make sure I get to my hostel ok. Reminiscent of Dumbledore and totally adorable. We eventually arrive and the professor puts me on a bus in the right direction, and I find my hostel, Tiger Tims.

Immediately feel really welcome when I arrive; It's really friendly and homely, and the staff, Tim, Meg and Daniel are really lovely. Everyone is heading out later on, so definitely getting involved in that :-)

Shower, cup-a-soup (mmm, nutritious) and drinking games (ie jenga) ensue, and a whole bunch of us head out to an outdoor bar/club called Cha Cha Cha. Having a brilliant night chatting to people, when suddenly DISASTER. Daft, careless wino Charlotte has reared her ugly head yet again, and after having abandoned my handbag, suddenly realises that the purse (credit cards, ID, money et al) has gone. Oh dear.

Not one to let a minor incident such as this mar a perfectly good bev session, we keep on partying, though as the night progresses, I am acutely aware that I am not getting my purse back. Problem.

Back at Tiger Tim's, I fall asleep in usual style (on top the the bedsheets, fully clothed), pretty much oblivious to my stupidity. It's only the few hours worth of telephone calls the next day that makes me realise the gravitas of the situation....

Eventually manage to get a Western Union money transfer (thanks Dad!) and all order is restored. I shall party again, and my glass shall runneth over once more. So, with money once more, me Jaii and Amanda, two ace American girls staying at my hostel, head out for the day, to the Museum of Ethnography (basically the gypsy museum!) It's really good, and I am more than a bit jealous of the fashions on display. After, we head for some falafels, before going back to the hostel for a power nap, then more drinking/partying.

We all head back out that night, and the drinks are flowing far too easily....wine, palinka, beer, hookahs....whatever! And this can be the only rational explanation for what happened next.....

With all sense of dignity and self respect trailing about behind me somewhere (along with my liver), I hook up with a 19 year old. Yes. 19. Usually I would try to justify this by saying he doesn't look 19, so it doesn't really count. And he doesn't actually look 19....I would say more like 16. 17 at a push. This could be a new low, even for me.

And the best is yet to come.....

Gypsies, Missed Trains and Hostel Perverts...

Wake up early this morning and have massively stodgy breakfast, as I am so hungover. Basically ate my weight in carbohydrates. Much needed. Decide to head to Budapest later today, so check out the hostel and head top the train station to figure out times. Looks as though I can get a midnight train, so going to spend the day sightseeing and chilling out first.

Wander round the Jewish Quarter for a while, and then to the Old Town Square, where I stumble upon a parade celebrating gypsies and the nomadic lifestyle. There are hundreds of people playing instruments, dancing, chanting and wearing traditional dress, and it really is a sight to behold. The whole thing has made me beam from ear to ear; it's amazing to randomly encounter something like that.

Head to the Chocolate Museum in the afternoon (for a little bit of culture...?!) and manage to blag a few free samples. Much needed sugar boost. Head back to the hostel to get out of the sunshine for a while (I'm burning rapidly!) and am slightly creeped out by the receptionist, who is sleazing on me HEAVY. "You should take a train in the morning and we will go for drinks tonight...." Eh...tempting. But, no.

Head back out to get some dinner, and just when I think the day can't get any stranger, I bump in to Brazilian Alex AGAIN. This time, he concedes that out 2 chance meetings in Prague are really bizarre, and totally unlikely. He asks where I'm headed, and when I say I'm going to get some food, he invites himself along, and we end up going to a little taverna for Greek. He is actually as crazy as I first thought. Feel as though I am out for dinner with Borat.

Eventually part ways with him, and head to the Astronomical Clock to meet Ben and Graeme for one last drink before I need to go. We head to Medieval themed bar for a few tankards of beer, and of course this is when daft Charlotte appears. As she likes to do on occasion. A few drinks turns in to a few more and I end up pretty pissed and miss my train. OOPS.

Dash back to the hostel, and after some sweet-talking, I convince the woman at reception to give me a room for another night - luckily they have the space! Put my bags in and head back out to meet the boys....we decide that a night of dancing could be on the cards. Finding somewhere proves to be an arduous task though, but we eventually find a totally tragic little bar, which turns out to be a total laugh. Think I may have horrified/disgusted/defiled them with my horrid chat.

We say our goodbyes and I head back to the hostel...only to be greeted by the creepy receptionist from earlier on. He has been waiting up for, and I'd barely set foot in the door when he whisked me in to the common room where he has beers waiting. He descends in to total sleaziness rapidly...hand stroking etc, and I suddenly have visions of the film Hostel. Escape needed asap.

Quickly excuse myself and head to bed, hoping and praying that a) Mr Creepy doesn't follow me b) I manage to get up in time to check out and c) that I don't miss my train again.

Can this be done?

Czech it out....Tramps, Pints of Wine and Serendipitous Meetings....

Now on the train to Prague, and via Dresden and South Bohemia, and have managed to find an almost empty carriage, so crack open the uber-classy wine and put some music on. Happy daze. But before I can get too comfortable, I am joined in my pokey wee carriage by what I can only describe as a total halfwit. Despite the fact that I am looking out the window at the countryside (which is beautiful, by the way) and have headphones in, he is persistent in talking to me. Eventually I repent and switch my music off. Initially he seems "normal" enough (whatever that is!), but gradually things descend in to the realm of bizarre, as he tells me that everyone thinks he is a fool, and that it is his birthday but there will be no celebrations because he doesn't deserve any happiness....Starting to imagine my mum receiving individual body parts in the post now.

Manage to pacify him with some wine (decanted in to a plastic bottle!) and o return the favour he provides me with a Czech-Esperanto dictionary. Which will prove infinitely useful, I'm sure....particularly as I can speak neither.

Arrive fairly late and take the subway to my hostel (after copying the address down wrong I eventually find it!). Knackered after the journey I head straight to bed, ready for a day of exploring.

Manage to get up early (too early!) and head out to see Prague. It's really beautiful and well- preserved, and easy enough to see all the sites on foot. I sit by the river for a while, taking in the beauty of it all, and it really is quite breathtaking, with the castle on the hill. Perhaps only marginally spoiled by the reeking tramp asleep next to me. ..

Decide to do the free walking tour, and end up chatting to a few different groups of people; Amy and Steph (travelling together), Ben and Graeme (med students from England), and Mahmoud, Phil, Hank, and Tom, US engineering students. Once the tour is over we all head to get a carry out and sit in the park are next to the river.....50 cents for a litre of Staropramen? It would be rude not to! We all decide to head out together later on, so will meet at the Astronomical clock at 9. Meanwhile, I head back to the hostel for a power nap and some food (the most hideous salted cheese creation from Tesco Expressz) before heading to the clock.

We all decide to go on a pub crawl; for the equivalent of 10 euros we get 2 hours "all you can drink" and then entry to 3 nightclubs. Admittedly this is not usually my cup of tea, but when in Prague....

Since all the alcohol is "free", I start of with a few pints of wine (classy lady), and am pretty drunk pretty quick. Excellent. Me, Ben and Graeme find a seat in the corner and smoke some really delicious vanilla hookah before we hit the Czech nightlife....

And boy is the nightlife hilarious! I think 1994 has finally hit Prague.....certainly judging by the music and the fashion, anyway. And I love it! It's tacky, it's kitsch and it's full of cringeworthy people. A perfect night out. Bizarrely and by total chance, I bump in to Alex, the mad Brazilian that I met in Kreuzberg in Berlin. In a tiny back street in Prague. At 3 am. And while I am totally taken aback by how completely serendipitous this is, he doesn't seem too bothered!

Clubbing over, me and a few of the American boys make a late night/early morning walk to the Charles Bridge. It's amazing to see the city at night, looking so magical and peaceful. Back near the busiest part of town though, there are drug-dealers everywhere, offering us everything and anything. Usually I'd stop for a chat and a perusal of their good and services, but I'm really not sure I can trust a dealer with a business card....

Eventually make it back to the hostel, and as standard, fall asleep fully clothed, with a pounding wine/sambuca head. Pretty sure tomorrow is going to be an epic struggle...

Squats, Concentration Camps and 1 Euro Wine....

Drag my weary carcass out of bed not-so-early and head down to Alexanderplatz to take and alternative walking tour....pretty self-explanatory; it takes in the alternative East Berlin sites; squats, the best street art, the East Side Gallery and the YAAM (Young African Art Movement) Beach Bar. Saw some unbelievably inspiring murals, tags and though-provoking political graffiti. This stuff really is echelons above and beyond the type of street art I have seen in any other city - "yer maw" scratched in to the side of a Glasgow bus stop really has nothing on this!

The tour took in one of the last working artists squats in Berlin, Tacheles. Set in an old ramshackle-looking house, Tacheles quite simply exudes character and cool. Reeking of the heady mix of incense and urine, it is quite simply COVERED in graffiti, and has loads of studio space, where up-and-coming and established artists can exhibit their work. Could have easily spent hours there.

After a few hours walking, we finish up at the beach bar; a really chilled out space right next to the East Side Gallery. A great way to spend a hot afternoon!

Head back to the hostel early evening for another uninspiring dinner of cheese, bread and salami. Living the dream! Head up to Prenzlauer Berg in the evening, to a little internet cafe, where I sort of my plans for moving on - Prague tomorrow evening!

Manage an alcohol free night so I can get up early in the morning and go to Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp in Oranienburg, about 45 minutes north of Berlin.

The camp itself is a very intense place, loaded with history. Set in sprawling grounds, preceded by the ominous "Arbeit Macht Frei", there are execution trenches, medical experimentation labs, gas chambers, gallows and cells. It's a very quiet, eerie site, and while I am thinking about how much death and torture and misery the perimeter walls have seen, I find one solitary red flower growing. It's ironic and totally paradoxical that that something so beautiful could ever grow in such a hostile environment.

Back at Alexanderplatz, I collect my backpack and head to ye-olde Netto to get a bottle of 1 Euro red wine for my train journey to Prague. It's the very least I need after a heavy day! So I'm sitting at Berlin Hautbanhof, people watching, waiting for my train to Praha. Yet again though, it will be dark by the time I get there. I just hope it's easier to negotiate than Amsterdam.....

Flea Markets, Thunderstorms and Terror...

Since it's Sunday, I decide to head to the flea market at Mitte this morning.....and I am not disappointed! It's a sprawling and bustling market, with people selling anything and everything, and for super cheap....50 cents of vintage clothes? yes please! There's also an ampitheatre next to the market site, where locals can get up and sing/dance/act/whatever.....pretty good way of entertaining myself in the sun for a while. And on the grassy areas, people are having barbequeues, sunbathing, drinking, listening to music; it's a really chilled vibe.

The Prenzlauer Berg and Mitte areas of Berlin are beautiful; there are hundreds of little cafes dotted along the streets, spilling out on the the pavements, adorned with street art. It almost feels Parisienne here, although much less self-aware, and infinitely cooler (hipster Berliners sitting smoking and just being....)

After a few hours, I head back down to Alexanderplatz; I've been told there may be a flashmob there at 3pm, so I lay on a bench people watching for a while. Sadly no flashmob materialises, but a brilliant little jazz/funk band pitch up, so I listen to them for a while; perfect Sunday music.

It's now ridiculously hot; almost beyond bearable, so I decide to head down to Potsdamer Platz, and to the Topography of Terror openair Museum. It charts the plight of the the Jews during the war, with photographs, documents, propaganda posters and artefacts and is really harrowing. There are pictures of women with their heads shaved, being publicly ritually humiliated for entering in to relationships with Jewish men ("racial defilement"). I feel a bit overwhelmed by the time I leave, but glad that I went. It's a really intense but important fragment of history.

Back at the hostel, I head to the bar for a Berliner and some chill-out time, after a long day of walking. Get talking to an Australian guy called Zach, who has just moved here (having bizarrely lived in Pitlochry previously....). We have a BBC cocktail (uber creamy....bleugh...) and sit by the top-floor windows, watching a truly epic thunderstorm. It was so hot that the weather broke, the sky turned black, and thunder and lightning drew in. The rain is so heavy that it's vertical, and is running down the street like rivers. Totally amazing.

Eventually it subsides, so me and Zach head out for falafels. We wander around the Alexanderplatz area for a while, trying to figure out just how Berliners are so inherently cool? Is it their ironic fashion choices? The hair? The attitude? The way they make smoking look film-star sexy? Probably a mixture of all of this.

Have promised Zach I will visit him at the coffee-shop where he works before I leave Berlin, so may do that tomorrow.

Off to bed, ready for a day of visiting squats, photographing graffiti and hanging out at the African beach bar....

Techno Houseboats and Illicit Mojito Bars...

So, as predicted I don't emerge from my room until late, and I sadly have to check out the hostel today as it's so busy. Manage to find another place to stay, in Alexanderplatz, which is pretty lucky as the receptionist is convinced that I'm not going to find anywhere to stay at all....

Before I relocate, though, I go on a walking tour, which takes in most of the East Berlin sites; Brandenburg Gate, Holocaust Memorial, the course of the Wall, the Museums and University etc. Berlin is such as vast city, with no real centre, so my legs are knackered after a day of nothing but walking. Nonetheless I persevere and in the evening head to the East Side Gallery, which is beyond brilliant. Lots of great graffiti to take pictures of.

Head back to Kreuzberg hostel, collect my bag and relocate to Alexanderplatz hostel. It's very clean and has a bar; the basics are covered at least. Find a cheap supermarket nearby (hello Netto, I love you) and stock up on the essentials....wine, chocolate, cheese and crisps. The staples of every good diet, obviously.

Get chatting to my roommate Jorge, from Mexico, and we head to the bar for a beer (or 2...). We're joined by a few French guys who are beyond hammered (and have taken to calling me Cha-Cha - let's face it, I've been called worse...)and invite us out to a barge boat/night club on a canal in Kreuzberg....it would be rude not to, so we head over.

Berlin is absolutely buzzing tonight, and on our way there we stumble across a man who has set up a little table in the middle of a bridge over the river. He's using it as a makeshift bar, selling mojitos to people on their way to nightclubs. Great idea! We eventually arrive a the club; a very bohemian looking barge with fairy lights everywhere. It's so beautiful, especially with the trees from the embankment providing a canopy and the candles and lights dotted around the place.

And it's a techno-lovers paradise! Packed with people, all drinking and smoking and dancing and sweaty...it almost feels as though we are crashing a house party. Albeit a very welcoming house party.

We make it back to the hostel pretty late, though surprisingly not that drunk, and I fall asleep with a massive smile on my face. The total serendipity of tonight - and every other night so far - has made me happier than I've felt in a long time. :-)

Gay Bars and Heavy Metal....

I start walking in the general direction of Kreuzberg, and in a bizarre twist, I do actually appear to be going the right way. Unusual for me. I arrive on Skalitzer Strasse (the very street I'm looking for) and, just as quick as it descended, the thundercloud lifts, sunshine filters through and a beautiful rainbow bursts across the sky. A man on a bicycle stops right next me and insists I look at how amazing it is - and it really is; especially against the graffiti-addled industrial backdrop.

I find my hostel fairly easily (Berlin tip: stand for more than 20 seconds looking lost and someone will offer to give you directions) and dump my bag in my room.....which I am sharing with 14 other people. Cosy. First stop is for some food though, and I head for a falafel shop down the street. Already decide that I am going to get up super-early tomorrow to go photographing graffiti around the city, but of course the lure of an ice-cold Berliner is just too much, and as soon as I get back the bar at the hostel I can't resist.

I get chatting to a Spanish guy called Cesar and a Brazilian guy called Alex at the bar for a while, and we have a few drinks , before me and Cesar decide to check out the Kreuzberg nightlife. And wow, is the nightlife special!

First up was my choice, an amazingly tacky and kitsch gay bar called Rosie's, complete with pink furry walls, fairy lights, chandeliers, flashing Jesus icons, leopard print....the full gay shebang. And I love it. The clientele are an interesting mix... in fact, one semi-naked guy comes up to me and shouts "TAKE YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES OFF" in my face. Tempting, but no.

Next up is is a little club called Cake; again, interestingly decorated, and good for some dancing - which me and Cesar did plenty of (and very badly). We stay there till about 4am, but everything in Kreuzberg is still buzzing; Berlin really is a vibrant and energetic city.

Last stop before before home is a rock/heavy-metal bar....pretty much the total opposite of Rosie's, and an interesting way to end the evening.

Back at the hostel, I climb in to bed, fully clothed as usual, and managed to sleep. Though I'm pretty sure that my plan to get up really early to take pictures has gone right out of the window.....

Gay Bars and Heavy Metal....

I start walking in the general direction of Kreuzberg, and in a bizarre twist, I do actually appear to be going the right way. Unusual for me. I arrive on Skalitzer Strasse (the very street I'm looking for) and, just as quick as it descended, the thundercloud lifts, sunshine filters through and a beautiful rainbow bursts across the sky. A man on a bicycle stops right next me and insists I look at how amazing it is - and it really is; especially against the graffiti-addled industrial backdrop.

I find my hostel fairly easily (Berlin tip: stand for more than 20 seconds looking lost and someone will offer to give you directions) and dump my bag in my room.....which I am sharing with 14 other people. Cosy. First stop is for some food though, and I head for a falafel shop down the street. Already decide that I am going to get up super-early tomorrow to go photographing graffiti around the city, but of course the lure of an ice-cold Berliner is just too much, and as soon as I get back the bar at the hostel I can't resist.

I get chatting to a Spanish guy called Cesar and a Brazilian guy called Alex at the bar for a while, and we have a few drinks , before me and Cesar decide to check out the Kreuzberg nightlife. And wow, is the nightlife special!

First up was my choice, an amazingly tacky and kitsch gay bar called Rosie's, complete with pink furry walls, fairy lights, chandeliers, flashing Jesus icons, leopard print....the full gay shebang. And I love it. The clientele are an interesting mix... in fact, one semi-naked guy comes up to me and shouts "TAKE YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES OFF" in my face. Tempting, but no.

Next up is is a little club called Cake; again, interestingly decorated, and good for some dancing - which me and Cesar did plenty of (and very badly). We stay there till about 4am, but everything in Kreuzberg is still buzzing; Berlin really is a vibrant and energetic city.

Last stop before before home is a rock/heavy-metal bar....pretty much the total opposite of Rosie's, and an interesting way to end the evening.

Back at the hostel, I climb in to bed, fully clothed as usual, and managed to sleep. Though I'm pretty sure that my plan to get up really early to take pictures has gone right out of the window.....

Gutentag Berlin!

I head to the train station early and start the first part of my journey to Berlin - a short trip to Hilversum, where I'll make my connection. It's a beautiful sunny day, so I'm sitting outside the train station with a book and some music. As I was leaving the hostel this morning, I found a small bag of weed that the German guys in my room had left behind...if only I wasn't leaving the country too!

I've had an amazing time in Amsterdam; it's a really cool, vibrant and tolerant city. Diverse, super-chilled and absolutely stunning. And the people are not only genuine, but ridiculously attractive; inherently well-dressed and oozing cool. You can't help but feel a bit inadequate really!

There are a few other people sitting outside catching some sun too, and I am suddenly acutely aware that the 2 guys sitting across from me appear to be talking about me in Dutch (the staring and indiscreet pointing were a dead giveaway). Reassuringly, I have absolutely no clue what they are saying. Eventually they strike up conversation.

"Are you French?"

"No, I'm Scottish. I live near Glasgow."

"Ah! Glasgow! You have a religious war there between Catholics and Fenians?"

Eh...something like that boys! Eventually I catch my train to Berlin, but in typical dis-organised Charlotte fashion, I have no food, no water, no phone battery and no i-pod battery left. Excellent. Luckily a train attendant brings everyone some free chocolate coated nuts - the most nutritious of dinners!

With less than an hour till we arrive at Berlin Hautbanhopf, I am befriended by a rowdy group of football supporters (although they look a bit more like Hell's Angels to be honest...) Turns out there is a big game on between Duisburg and Schalke, and fans are descending on Berlin for it, so it should be pretty chaotic!

Just as the train pulls in to the main station in Berlin, a rather foreboding looking black thundercloud descends upon the city and there is a huge downpour of rain. Hopefully my hostel, which is in Kreuzberg, is not too far a walk from the train station....

A day of opposites...

I manage to drag myself out of bed fairly early this morning, and take the tram in to Dam Square where I meet Donna and Ellen at 11ish. First stop for us is Waterlooplein, and the vintage markets - could have EASILY spent all my money on hats, scarves, dresses and leather shorts - but I manage to resist and we go and get some food at a very bohemian/ramshackle little antique cafe.

Next stop - Anne Frank House. The queue to get in is massive, but luckily an American musical school group of about 30 people (you really couldn't make this up) who are at the front smuggle us in with them, so we manage to beat all of the queues entirely! The museum itself is brilliant; really humbling, well-preserved and presented. The house is a very intense place to be, probably because it is so steeped in history, and there are even copies of the original diary on display too.

So after a fairly sombre afternoon, we decide there's only one thing for it....we need to smoke the rest of our joint. First though, we head to the supermarket to load up on food for when the inevitable munchies come...

Joint smoked, food eaten and numerous bicycles avoided, the three of us decide upon an evening visit to the Sex Museum (pretty much the opposite of the Anne Frank House!) - and what a decision it is! (especially whilst stoned...!) There are sculptures, photographs, life-size models, larger-than-life size models....and all from the personal collection of one man. Really bizarre, but totally hilarious, and a bargain at 4 euros.

We finish our night off in Leidesplein, where much of the nightlife is concentrated, though I'm off to Berlin tomorrow fairly early, so it's a quiet evening all round. Back at the hostel, all my roommates are passed out surrounded by empty crisp-packets, and my pokey little windowless room reeks of weed. I think I will sleep well tonight.....

Amsterdam!

19.05

I arrive fairly late at Centraal Station (just as night is falling), so hope straight on a tram and hope for the best... Trams are an entirely new experience for me, so I'm a bit suspicious to say the least, but all goes well and I get off at Museumplein, where I know my Hostel should be. But anyone that says that Amsterdam is an easy city to navigate is lying. After some aimless wandering, I admit defeat and ask directions - turns out the hostel is down a side street in a residential area.

Decide to head straight to bed; the last few days of nonsense and debauchery have knackered me. Room is a 6-bed dorm, with NO WINDOWS. Which would usually be fine. Except that I'm in a room with 5 guys. Cue an uncomfortably warm sleep.

Next morning I make it up in time for breakfast (this is a first for me; I'm never up in time for breakfast!) then head in to the centre of the city to take a free walking tour. In the queue, I get talking to 2 Australian girls, Donna and Ellen, who are on an epic travelling adventure. The tour takes in all the usual places; Red Light District, Coffeeshops, Jewish Quarter, Flower Market etc. Really informative and a great way to get to know the city a little better.

The tour finishes, and me, Donna, Ellen, another Aussie called Daniel and 2 Mexican guys decide to head to De Dampkring Coffeeshop for a while. It's a seriously chilled out little place. Me and the girls get a couple of chocolate space cakes (delicious!) and a pre-rolled joint of "super-silver haze"....

And this is where is all gets a bit sketchy... Weed in Amsterdam is potent, and a lot stronger that the stuff you get in other places. After a few hours (maybe? I don't recall), me Donna and Ellen decide to head for some food. En route, an older guy on his bicycle slows down and asks us; "are you girls having a good day?"

"Yeah," the three of us reply, smiling like Cheshire cats.

"You guys are a little baked, huh?" he says. "Sweeeet!"

Cue much giggling from us. It starts to get dark again, so I decide to head back to my Hostel, which I manage surprisingly successfully. Ironically, this is the first time I am able to use a map correctly; I am rather stoned; note to self...smoke more!

Have agreed to meet Ellen and Donna tomorrow at Dam Square at 11 for some exploring, so slump in to my bed and am asleep pretty much instantly. Have planned a tough day of museums and vintage shopping tomorrow. And we still have a joint to smoke.....

In vino veritas!

After a much needed power-nap in the afternoon, I decide to go a wander around the Montparnasse district. After much meandering, I bump in to Logan and Philip on the way back, who are with Ashley and Antonia (American and Austrian) and the 5 of us decide to go and get some food.
We eventually find a lovely little French brasserie in Montparnasse, and sit outside chatting and drinking wine (naturally, we split a bottle of red between the 5 of us....tres expensive otherwise!)

We decide to save our pennies and buy wine to take back to the Hostel, so stop in at the supermarche again and load up in a few more 2 euro bottles each. Classy.

Perhaps this should have been our first warning, but when we arrive back at the hostel, the receptionist is in a foul mood, and moans about noise levels and alcohol consumption repeatedly. This is prompty followed by a threat to call the police (though I'm not entirely sure what his line of argument would be...."Gendarmes! These people are having too much fun. And in a youth hostel of all places!....")

After some sweet-talk and compromise, we head to the kitchen area to have drinks, where Mike joins us, along with 2 guys who are in my room; Forrest and Denny (Hawaiian and Swiss).

A host of drinking games follows and we all get fairly drunk and talk utter nonsense for a few hours. When it's just me, Mike and Logan left, we remember about our teeny tiny bit of hash from the night before, and set about making a joint. Of course, what we don't quite anticipate is the CCTV camera in kitchen....

Yes. The moody receptionist has been watching us. Cue his arrival at the top of the stairs, shouting " What you are doing eez eeeleegal! I will call the police......You must get out!"

So me, Mike and Logan decide to let the receptionist calm down, and head out to smoke our (badly rolled) joint. After a bit of down time, we head back inside. It's about midnight/1ish by now, and Mike informs us that he has nowhere to stay; his reservation ended today...

Spurred on by red wine, I give Mike my room key and tell him to make a run for it while I distract the receptionist. In a scene reminiscent from Saved by the Bell, I ask the receptionist a series of inane questions (what time is breakfast? where is the nearest cash machine? etc) while Mike hides. Unbelievably, we get away with it; Mike has a free room for the night!

Feeling more-than-rough in the morning, I have to check out early. Today, I'm going to attempt to head to Amsterdam. I say my goodbye's to people at the hostel, and me and Forrest decide to get some greasy food near the Gare du Nord before I catch my train. Because of my serious lack of organisation, I miss all direct trains to Amsterdam, so end up having to make a stop over in Brussells. Should be in Amsterdam by around 9pm. I just hope it's still light when I get there - don't really fancy trying to find my Hostel in the dark.....

J'adore Paris!

16.05.11

The adventure begins.....

First hurdle over; I have successfully arrived in Paris, and used my superlative (ahem) French skills to navigate my way from Beauvais airport to the centre of town, and from the centre of town to Montparnasse, where my hostel is. No mean feat, especially with a raging hangover from the night before, and a general feeling of nervousness churning in the pit of my stomach...

Ditched my rucksack in my room and decided to bite the bullet and head to the Common area and attempt conversation/socialising. Much easier than expected, especially considereing that most other people there were already well-oiled with some vinegar-esque bottles of 2 euro red wine. Not one to miss out the vino action, I head round to the "supermarche" (aforementioned superlative French skills again) and buy 2 bottles. Well, it's so cheap it's be rude not to. Right?

Back at the hostel, I get chatting to a few American's, a Saudi and a Colombian (Mike, Philip, Logan Hassan and Santiago, respectively). Encouraged by copious amounts of wine and the desire to explore Paris by night, we decide to head for the Eiffel Tower (bottles in hand, obviously).

En route, I am struck by the fact that I am the only female in our group, and that I have known these boys for merely a few hours. Though, those that know me would probably be more concerned about the welfare of the boys than me....

After about 20 minutes of walking, we get a tad sidetracked, when I spot a group of people sitting on a patch of grass near the Tower and convince the others that we should join them. Turns out to be a great idea, and we spend the next few hours sitting with a fairly sizeable group of Moroccan, French and Sudanese guys who are playing guitar and didgeridoo, drinking whisky and sharing joints. (NB - 14 boys and Charlotte....)

Naturally, plenty of singing, talking, drinking and smoking ensues, and me Logan and Mike scraped together a few Euros each to buy a little bit of Moroccan Black from a cheery Sudanese man. Price-wise, perhaps not the cheapest, but hey - that's Paris for you!

Eventually we decide to head back to the hostel, probably about 3 or 4am. Strangely though, we get sidetracked yet again, and end up joining in a game of basketball (really, a late night game in a court in the centre of Paris!) for probably 30 minutes or so. As you do. By this point, we are well finished our drink, and are just about to discover the meaning of the expression "blind drunk".....

After walking (stumbling) for at least and hour without even the slightest inclination of where (or who) we are, and the total inability to read the crumpled map that's stuffed in the bottom of my handbag, we admit defeat and hail a cab. By this point, it's just me, Logan, Mike and Santiago left; the others having become casualties earlier on.

After a totally dead-sleep, where (needless-to-say) I wake up fully clothed wondering where I am, I force myself out in the bright Parisienne morning, to take in some sights and some culture, accompanied by some very dark sunglassed and an unquenchable thirst.

Despite a shaky start, I head for The Louvre. The queues are ridiculously long, but with a valid ID confirming that I'm under 26, I get in for free, it's most defintely worth the wait. The art and exhibits inside are undeniably beautiful, but would realistically require a few days to appreciate fully. And because it's such a huge tourist attraction, I often feel as though I am fighting crowds justto catch a glimpse of the art on show. Crowds and hangovers do not make an attractive partnership, so after a few minutes of "me time" in the toilets, I decide it's time to get some air.

Who knows what tonight will bring? But I have a feeling that, at this rate, I will be conducing a cirrhosis/binge-drinking tour of Europe.....