Carnival: Day 2Posted: February 26, 2012
No sleep for the wicked! I woke up early on Monday, along with the rest of Volksplein, feeling like death. We all congregated on 70E’s kitchen to discuss the previous night’s antics and I managed to put together a timeline for my last blog post. Despite all being equally drunk and generally being in the same place as each other we all seemed to have had extremely different nights, but equally enjoyable.
Brendan for example had woken up across the river and had walked all the way back, past what he claimed to have been a Medieval Castle. A quick Google maps search showed the nearest castle being 2h 39m on foot so it is still a mystery as to where he went, having taken only 45 mins to get home.
ESN had arranged a pub crawl for 2pm and we were welcomed at Falstaff with a healthy crowd, already necking the beers. With enough alcohol in our systems from the night before to probably still be over the limit we had previously agreed to calm down on the alcohol consumption for the day – but that clearly wasn’t going to happen! Double fisting at lunch time we danced our way around several bars until we made it safely and drunkenly to the Markt.
Here the pub crawl parted ways agreeing to meet up again at 10pm to continue our Maastricht invasion, with some participants wanting to go home for some much needed R&R. We however had other plans, and were not going to stop that quickly.
We spotted a blue float beside the last pub with the music turned up to 10 and scores of older people dancing around in flash, sparkly clothing…..their party was now our party. Jumping on the float we turned the civilized parade into a rave tent. After about 20 minutes of drunken international students upsetting this status-quo they had had enough. We were asked firstly to politely leave, and when we ignored that warning were threatened in Dutch; with something I was not willing to hang around to get a physical translation for.
Bar Street was the next stop on our mission to visit every licenced establishment in the city. Think of this place as a more upbeat and less sophisticated Ashton Lane and you get the picture of where we were heading. The main joint to be cased is called Café Cliniq which plays its music louder than everywhere else and has cheaper drinks prices. Unfortunately however it was also home to a crowd so young it would make Boho unders look like an old folk’s home. After buying a round of drinks with a 10 Euro note and receiving 42 Euros in change I quickly exit the crèche – Without everyone else for some reason
A fair while later I randomly bump into Lyndon who is trying to shake off a girl who appears to be stalking him. With a leave no man behind attitude he runs away to the toilet to never return – leaving me stranded. I try to think as to the whereabouts of my friends and have my first sensible thought of the day – I return to Café Cliniq.
None of the original group was there but I did bump into Ben, a native who is in my finance tutorial. Apparently I also met a load of other exchange students and was buying them drinks – I have no recollection of this!
I have a feeling I then met the Peruvians and tried to convince them to go with me to Feesfabrik, which I had been told was the best bar to pick-up women. I can only assume we couldn’t find it as the next thing I knew I was in a conga line going up the street towards Vrijof. There I re-joined the same group whom I had left in Cliniq, ordering a round of 15 beers as my apologies for running away.
Time to get my dance on once more I stroll into the bar with Bjorn only to me manhandled by some big black bouncer and chucked back onto the street. I am still confused to what had happened but having spoken to the barman who was outside the explanation was given as this. Completely verbatim:
“You were dancing together so energetically it looked like you were fighting each other”
For some reason I accepted this answer and went quietly back to my table full of beer, perhaps because the man was built like a mountain! Smashing each glass on the floor as we drank, we were feeling tired. A Fireman was most definitely needed to keep us awake.
We enter THE bar and request the bottle only to be told we had drank it all the day before and they were all out……WHAT?
Lyndon asks for the next best thing and the bartender brings out a gold plastic bottle; which at first has the appearance of industrial cleaning fluid. Perhaps that’s why she had it stored beneath the sink instead of on the spirits shelf behind the bar? Now any normal person would have immediately seen that this was going to be a bad idea. After a whole days drinking however, this looked like a great idea. Bottoms up, we order a round………yuck!
Renee had to take Bjorn home because he was too drunk to stand of talk and we completely lost Brendan and Adele. In an almost real life deja-vu situation we leave the same bar and are in the same situation as the previous night:
Me: “Left or Right”
Lyndon “Definitely left”
Back towards the street rave it is, this thing must have been going on for 48 hours non-stop by now. I find a ripped and shrivelled costume lying on the ground and decide to try it on. To my disappointment is doesn’t fit, although a purple cow with horses legs looked like a very cool hybrid animal if you ask me. Sprinting into the Vrijhof in search of food we approach one of the many burger vans. “Fish” is the only word we can get out and the man behind the counter hands us dishes of battered strips of what I assume to be cod, although not 100% convinced. Expecting to be told a price he instead just stares at us like we are aliens from another planet. We walk away with our free food, confused and debating whether to go back for more -I swear I couldn’t make this stuff up!
We enter a pub that has both a side door as well as the main entrance and instead of going to the bar like any normal people decide to walk round in circles out one door and back in through the other. It was definitely time to go home!
We walk past the statue with the fruit covered wreath and see that there is a whole bunch of potatoes sitting there. Self –amusing as Lyndon and myself are, what started as a distance throwing competition lead to a stray one almost hitting the side of a police car driving past. Let’ get out of here.
The journey home which should have taken 10 minutes turned into three quarters of an hour as we developed an unhealthy obsession with finding an unlocked bike to cycle back, to no avail however. With Lyndon pressing every flat buzzer the whole way up the street home I crashed out promising myself tomorrow would be a much more sensible and relaxed affair…….