Ever since 6th grade when I started taking Spanish, I remember hearing about Sevilla, its beauty, its sites and its University. All those years of preparation finally came to fruition on Friday night.
We took a bus out of the Rota bus station at 9 pm. After an hour and half, and a semi-drunken nap, we got to Sevilla. And now a scene straight out of Eurotrip/Hostel/National Lampoon’s Family Vacation…
It starts when we are approached by a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a giant infection/bruise on his leg, “Quieres un hotel?”
I’m thinking this is too good to be true, but what ignorant, lazy asshole American wouldn’t bask in this convenient opportunity? Of course, I reply, “Si, necesitamos un hotel economico.”
With those words, I started one of the best overnight trips I’ve ever taken. (On a side note, I always laughed when we would take a taxi to the airport and my dad would have to sit in front with the driver, forced to talk to him for the entire ride. Now I know how it feels, and I am so sorry Dad.) After an extremely long 5 minute walk, where I was forced to speak Spanish with this guy (or more like forced to smell his coffee and raw meat breath) we arrived at a doorway. Notice, I don’t say hostel entrance… that’s because there was no sign advertising the hostel. I picked up on it right away, but I decided to keep it to myself since I was appointed group navigator and felt the weight on my shoulder to make decisions for everyone.
We walk up not one, but two flights of stairs and are introduced to Antonio. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture of this magnificent man, but hopefully my description can provide you with an image: Antonio stands at lengthy 5’6″, he is balding with a horseshoe hair design hanging down past his ears. He has a pink shirt on, which is also unbuttoned to the extent that I can see half of a nipple. He is drenched in sweat… especially with little beads on top of his freshly waxed head. If I could compare him to anyone in a movie, he most resembles the “Mi Scuzzi” guy from the train ride in Eurotrip that keeps feeling up the guy in the rail car but older and sleazier.
So Antonio starts showing me around. We cover that I need two rooms for 5 people, so he shows me his two “best” rooms. As we tour around, I’m realizing this is no ordinary hostel, but I don’t want to ruin the upcoming surprise for you… So he shows us how the water works (actually turning the sink on and off), he shows us the “air conditioning” which are two 15-year-old floor fans and he shows us the third mattress for our 5th person (a twin mattress probably teaming with bodily function stains). Oh, I can’t forget… my room had a refrigerator… which Antonio emphasized, “See… refrigerador… uh-fridge-ah… Es cool, no?” He sold me with that little sales pitch.
Marco excited about the refrigerator in our room.
So, we decide to rent the two rooms (it was a steal at 15 Euro, so we had to.) Right after we pay and provide false identification information, the complaining begins from all sides:
“This place is gross.”
“Did you see this bed? It’s gross! I’m definitely sleeping in my clothes.”
“Is he going to steal our shit? I don’t trust him.”
AND THE BEST…
“Bryan, if our shit is stolen, I’m going to kill you.”
So, my quasi-hold on the Spanish language landed me in a tight spot. I assured everyone we’d be fine, but I was freaking out because I had no idea what tricks Antonio had up his sleeve.
We take a few minutes to get settled, leave our stuff in our rooms and double check the door locks. Meanwhile, preparing for the worst, I’m carrying my wallet, passport, iPod, headphones, translator and an extra pair of boxers (I love cargo shorts).
We walk outside, and I have this urge to ask the bar manager next door if this hostel is safe.
“Señor, esta seguro el hotel al lado?” (Is the hostel next door safe, sir?)
“No digo nada!” (I’m not saying anything!)
HOLY SHIT! So now I’ve confirmed that my money and stuff is tied up in a shady hostel. I’m freaking out, but I keep my cool and tell the group the guy won’t say anything, but that doesn’t mean it’s negative… he may just not know that much about it. (Yeah right!)
We go out on the town and run into Simon Birch (Spanish Version). Yeah, I’m an a-hole, but you’d agree with the resemblance if you could have seen him. He had a beautiful, tall, slender blonde girlfriend (total mismatch), but it all made sense when we saw her pick her nose…. and eat it, too. I thought I took a really good sneaky video of it, too, but it was too dark to catch her digging for gold.
After one drink, we walk back to the hostel because we want to be with our stuff. We get upstairs, look into our rooms and realize the sheets still have not been laid on the bed. I yell for Antonio… who comes downstairs sweating even moreso now and buttoning up his shirt. He goes and gets sheets for us, and has me help him put them on. He also holds up a flat sheet and shows us both sides, saying “Limpio! Yes? Limpio!” to prove that there are no piss, blood or shit stains on it. Then he lays it right on our one body pillow. That’s right, my roommate and I got to share one elongated pillow the entire night… no head to foot going on in this hostel. Oh, and we discovered upon opening our fridge, that it was actually an oven in disguise. We almost burnt our fingers inside the freezer… figure that one out.
Marco and I are getting ready for our overnight bonding experience when Antonio comes back in with a dustpan and broom. Like a good host, he sweeps out the shower stall and then washes it with the shower head. We laughed as we saw black water draining into the corner of the stall. He leaves, I try to fall asleep with my roommate a foot away from my face, my wallet in one pocket and my passport in the other.
Still haven’t figured out how to rotate the pics with this program, but that’s Marco making sure the shower was clean and sterilized!
Asleep, dreaming about the movie Hostel and wondering how much I would be sold for, I’m woken up suddenly…
“Oh, Oh, Oooohhhhhhhh, AAAAAAHHHHHH, OOOOOHHHH, AAAAAHHHHH!”
– – – – repeat for about 10 minutes – – – –
I tap Marco to wake him up because I’m thinking this is hilarious. He turns his face into the pillow, and I laugh for the next couple of minutes. By minute 3, the novelty wears off, and I really want to go back to bed. Finally, minute 10 arrives, and I hear absolute silence. I’m falling asleep, and all of a sudden we hear…
EEEEEE-URRRRRR EEEEEEE-URRRRRRR EEEEEEE-URRRRRR E-UR E-UR E-UR EEEEE-URRRRR E-UR E-UR E-UR E-UR (in case you can’t figure that out, it’s the bed squeaking)
I’m thinking, ‘Great, I’m screwed. This is going to go on for hours.’ A minute later, silence! Thank God for minute men!
We wake up the next morning, check to make sure we have both our kidneys, our money, our passports. Surprise… everything is there! Antonio wasn’t such a bad guy after all… he’s just the slimy owner of a sex shack in Sevilla, Spain…. everyone has their vices.
Before we left, we got a chance to see our neighbors through a crack in their door. The picture came out blurry, and I wish I could have done better, but let’s just say these two should have been on exhibit in the Jerez Zoo. The guy was wearing boy shorts that highlighted the forest of hair running from his asshole to his neck. The woman or what resembled a woman looked like a guest straight off the Jerry Springer show. Nicest way to put it, she was extremely fugly, and that’s being generous.
Look closely, and you can see the forest of hair on his back. Absolutely disgusting.
Stay tuned… there’s much more where this came from. Adios.
El Mundo del Cappytan 