Hungover to the Top

11 June 2011

Alicante, España

There’s not much else to say apart from that today is a hangover day.

Everyone is sharing stories. It’s funny because even though everyone was together in some way, shape or form, there are heaps of little, hilarious stories.

Australian Daniel and I summon up the energy, by five pm or so, to climb up the ancient fortification ruins in Alicante. I feel very un-Australian by not walking up in thongs, unlike my mountaineering comrade here, dodgy knees and all.

We get to the top just as the sun sets, and you see how even ten minutes can make a big difference in light, but you wonder how sights like these could be beaten.

In the night, I argue with Germans who turned the light on at four in the morning and started laughing and joking like they were in a bar. The usual reply to telling them to shut up comes: ‘If you want to sleep, why are you in a hostel?’ It’s seemingly a fair comment that any stupid teenager would make. Take one step further though… ‘Why are you drinking and talking in a bedroom? Bars and clubs are open until seven. Go there and have fun.’ ’…but my feet hurt.’ I roll over and accept there are idiots in this world, who even partake in something that is supposed to filter them out.

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