Though my hostel experience in London was pretty bad, I figured that I'd give it another shot in Amsterdam. I found "The Flying Pig" that was advertised as one of the cleanest in the city, and I got in for 30 Euros a night for a three bedroom room (thankfully, no toothless farting dudes on bunk beds). The place was significantly better than the place in London.
The first two nights, I shared the place with a 24 year old guy from Cleveland named Brandon (oh yeah, that's right -- the first two nights, only the two of us were in the 3 bed room -- very nice, indeed!). Initially, I thought he was ok, and we hung out the first night. By the third night, I was sick of hearing about his rich family and how amazing he was (umm, first sign of insecurity, eh?), but more about that when I get to the nightlife.
That's not to say that all was peachy with the place. On the second day, I sat on my bed, mourning another tragic Space Ninjas loss. The room was a bit stuffy (we were on the top floor, and the place felt kinda like a converted attic), so I nonchalantly opened the window. The window was an older type of window -- only one pane opened and the pane swung outward slightly, so only about half or foot or so was actually open.
A few minutes later, I was face to face with a plump pigeon who had flown inside the room. The pigeon and I had a momentary Mexican standoff before I shooed him away. Seconds later, the pigeon -- I named him Louis -- returned inside the room. Ok this obviously wasn't his first rodeo in the room. I shooed him away and noticed very little fear in his face -- in fact, I'd argue just the opposite; in his eyes, I saw a creature plotting my demise.
[Louis, you heartless bastard!!]
Naturally, the next step was to close the window enough so that Louis wouldn't be able to fit. Mission accomplished, I sat back down. A couple of peaceful minutes passed before I heard scratching at the window. Louis was aggressively attacking the glass. "Ok, this is weird," I thought before ignoring him. The scratching sound died and everything felt like it had returned to normal. Nah; that was too easy. I heard what sounded like scratching on the wall coming from a location distinctly different from Louis and the window. The sound seemed to emanate from under my bed and against the wall. I pulled the bed back from the wall, and what did I find??
Yep -- that's Maude. She had built a makeshift nest and I have no idea how long she had been there. I'm fairly certain that she was there when I slept in my bed the night before. Clearly, I barely survived having her feast on my eyeballs while I slept the night before. Weird and creepy all in one.
I grabbed at Maude, but she cowered in the corner, puffed up her chest, and hissed at me. Louis had returned and was banging against the window. Ok, now it was time I brought in the big guns, so I contacted the receptionist. "No problem - we'll get 'Russell' to handle it," was the response. Alright -- now we're getting somewhere. In walked Russell, a shaggy and bearded 20 year old 5'2" stoner who reminded me of a smaller version of Shaggy from Scoobie Doo. Armed with a plunger (and, to my surprise, he held the rubber end of the plunger -- disgusting!!), he swung aimlessly at Maude, missing her by several feet. After watching this for 3 minutes, I did a face palm on Russell's behalf -- this definitely wasn't going anywhere. Frustrated and dejected, Russell quietly left, muttering something like "I think the bird's injured or something." Russell did seem to have amazing powers of perception.
To my amazement, about ten minutes later, the receptionist walked into the room, armed with a towel and with Russell in tow. Russell moved the bed, and the receptionist swiftly grabbed Maude with the towel, opened the window (Louis was momentarily distracted and not banging against the window), and threw her out. Maude flew away and appeared to be in perfect health. Success!!
Or was it??
About an hour later, Louis had returned. He peered angrily at me through the window pane. Chills danced through me. I closed the curtain and took a shower.
The first two nights, I shared the place with a 24 year old guy from Cleveland named Brandon (oh yeah, that's right -- the first two nights, only the two of us were in the 3 bed room -- very nice, indeed!). Initially, I thought he was ok, and we hung out the first night. By the third night, I was sick of hearing about his rich family and how amazing he was (umm, first sign of insecurity, eh?), but more about that when I get to the nightlife.
That's not to say that all was peachy with the place. On the second day, I sat on my bed, mourning another tragic Space Ninjas loss. The room was a bit stuffy (we were on the top floor, and the place felt kinda like a converted attic), so I nonchalantly opened the window. The window was an older type of window -- only one pane opened and the pane swung outward slightly, so only about half or foot or so was actually open.
A few minutes later, I was face to face with a plump pigeon who had flown inside the room. The pigeon and I had a momentary Mexican standoff before I shooed him away. Seconds later, the pigeon -- I named him Louis -- returned inside the room. Ok this obviously wasn't his first rodeo in the room. I shooed him away and noticed very little fear in his face -- in fact, I'd argue just the opposite; in his eyes, I saw a creature plotting my demise.
Naturally, the next step was to close the window enough so that Louis wouldn't be able to fit. Mission accomplished, I sat back down. A couple of peaceful minutes passed before I heard scratching at the window. Louis was aggressively attacking the glass. "Ok, this is weird," I thought before ignoring him. The scratching sound died and everything felt like it had returned to normal. Nah; that was too easy. I heard what sounded like scratching on the wall coming from a location distinctly different from Louis and the window. The sound seemed to emanate from under my bed and against the wall. I pulled the bed back from the wall, and what did I find??
Yep -- that's Maude. She had built a makeshift nest and I have no idea how long she had been there. I'm fairly certain that she was there when I slept in my bed the night before. Clearly, I barely survived having her feast on my eyeballs while I slept the night before. Weird and creepy all in one.
I grabbed at Maude, but she cowered in the corner, puffed up her chest, and hissed at me. Louis had returned and was banging against the window. Ok, now it was time I brought in the big guns, so I contacted the receptionist. "No problem - we'll get 'Russell' to handle it," was the response. Alright -- now we're getting somewhere. In walked Russell, a shaggy and bearded 20 year old 5'2" stoner who reminded me of a smaller version of Shaggy from Scoobie Doo. Armed with a plunger (and, to my surprise, he held the rubber end of the plunger -- disgusting!!), he swung aimlessly at Maude, missing her by several feet. After watching this for 3 minutes, I did a face palm on Russell's behalf -- this definitely wasn't going anywhere. Frustrated and dejected, Russell quietly left, muttering something like "I think the bird's injured or something." Russell did seem to have amazing powers of perception.
To my amazement, about ten minutes later, the receptionist walked into the room, armed with a towel and with Russell in tow. Russell moved the bed, and the receptionist swiftly grabbed Maude with the towel, opened the window (Louis was momentarily distracted and not banging against the window), and threw her out. Maude flew away and appeared to be in perfect health. Success!!
Or was it??
About an hour later, Louis had returned. He peered angrily at me through the window pane. Chills danced through me. I closed the curtain and took a shower.
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