So I was thinking of something to write on here during the week, and remembered this one incident from quite a long time ago, I thought it might be an amusing thing to put on here.
The year was 1996, I had travelled to the west coast of Ireland, for reasons which will remain private *cough*. I was staying in a youth hostel in Dungloe, which, I was told, was the home town of Daniel O'Donnell. That's a hell of a thing to tell a tourist coming into your town...I very nearly got out the taxi and ran away screaming in the opposite direction. Anyway, so two things happened that night, neither of which I'll forget. The first was that I had the best two pints of Guinness I've ever had in my life, and the second was that I was sharing a room with a German guy called "Heinz (like the ketchup)" - his words. (see the picture is making sense now eh?)
So this guy was pleasant enough and we chatted for a bit, I generally like meeting people from other countries even though communication can be a bit difficult sometimes because for reasons which I can't work out, the Dundee accent confuses the hell out of them. It can be quite amusing sometimes though. So I go out for a couple of pints and was back in bed early as I had to be up at the crack of dawn to catch my bus back to Belfast. It was what happened during the night that, had I perhaps been a bit weaker in the bladder area, would've resulted in me soiling myself.
For whatever reason, I woke up in the middle of the night, and from my top bunk I saw Heinz getting out of his bed on the other side of the room...very slowly and deliberately. He then stood up and paused for a few seconds, looking directly at me, taking a very careful step towards me, before stopping again.
"Ok that's a bit odd", I thought, "what's he up to?"
He began creeping towards me a step at a time, painfully slowly. OK, so now I'm wide awake, eyes locked on this tall German-shaped silouette that's tip-toeing towards me in the darkness. I'm seriously beginning to freak out here and my fists are now tightly clenched (and so is my tea towel holder I might add!). It must've only taken about ten seconds for him to make his way across the room but it felt like about ten minutes. Now he's standing right next to my bed and I'm about a femtosecond away from launching myself at this psychopath who's obviously about to stab me to death...
....when....
....he walks right past me and into the feckin toilet which was directly behind my bed! HOLY CHRIST! The guy was obviously just getting up for a single fish and was moving slowly because he didn't want to waken me.
I'm a quivering wreck at this stage and it takes me at least half an hour to calm down and drift off to sleep. I've honestly never felt terror quite like that though. The poor guy probably has no idea how close he came to being attacked by a lunatic Scotsman. You can imagine how that story might go:
"Ja, so I was in this youth hostel in Dungloe. My bladder was a bit full during the night, ja? So I got up to relieve myself, when suddenly......"
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