When I woke up, It seemed as though I had never fallen asleep, like I had closed my eyes long enough to turn off the brain, but only for a moment, and then it turned back on. The first thing I did was roll to one side for a chance at going back to sleep, it was then I realized how much pain I was in, but from what? This question filled my head as I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen for some tea, where I ran into the Hungarian girl.This is where she told me all about Zane and I’s behavior at the Brew Pub last night. With every word being a small revelation. I decided to take a long hot shower and just sit at the bottom of the enclosure as the water ran, getting out and laying back down right after.It wasn’t long after that we both got up and walked back into the main plaza for something to snack on.We met up with a huge couch surfing group at a bar across town after that and this is where things got hairy. The starting lineup consisted of 4 different local beers in succession, each 1 Liter of course, and all pushed gingerly by the couch surfing host who organizes and manages this weekly group of around 30-50 people. A group we joined and got to know wanted to go to another bar, we were fine with that, so a 10 minute taxi drive later we were there.By the time we got everyone there they wouldn’t let Zane and I in because we didn’t have the correct change for the cover at the door… strange way of telling us to sober up, if that’s what it was. Anyways Zane didn’t like the place after that and went home, I stayed and danced with one of the Czech girls I met. We ended up staying up all night and before I knew it, it was 6 am, and our flight was supposed to leave at 7:20! The Czech girl and I rushed back to the hostel, waving off the person at the front desk telling me that non-guests weren’t allowed in the dorm.I woke up Zane, who had only been sleeping an hour at most, and we rushed out of the dorm as fast we could, shoving clothes in every free spot in our bags. I said goodbye to my dance partner in a blur and we got on the tram. Once at the bus station we had something like 30 minutes before our flight left, I was totally sure we’d miss our flight, totally.. Our bus was late and once on board I validated my ticket in the machine and told Zane to do the same. He checked his pockets half-assedly and shrugged, “can’t find my ticket.” “I just handed it to you, check for it.” “Nah, it will be fine.”Two seconds later the ticket police come and asked for our validated tickets, I give him mine and Zane looks for his with more serious focus and finds it, invalidated. The “officer,” or 40+ year old guy in blue jeans and a blue knitted sweat shirt that was probably gifted to him on his 30th birthday party, tells us to pay him $10, we don’t have the money, but I would refuse out of principle anyway. We tell him we just got on the bus and didn’t know. “You validated, why not him?” he asks. “He’s pretty much asleep I tell him.” Then he gets angry and tells us to pay him $40, to which I try and snatch the ticket out of his hands and go up to the driver to settle it. This really gets him going and he gets on his phone, making gestures and comments to let us believe he was calling the police.“I call police, they will wait for you at the airport” He said with a crazy look in his eye, his partner looking shrewdly at us then back at his associate. We just ignored them. When we got to the airport we got off the bus and went inside the terminal undisturbed, hearing the pair’s curses to us as they went the opposite direction.It was a straight sprint to our check in desk from outside. Of course check in was over almost an hour ago, but we soldiered on regardless. I ran to some official looking desk and asked them about our airline. He told me that the counter was closed, but if the flight was still there we might be able to get on if we went to the right desk, so I found Zane and took us to the place he pointed out. They told us that miraculously the flight was very late in taking off and if we ran the whole way we might make it aboard. We skipped straight to the front of a huge line waiting for another flight on our airline, checked in, and ran to our gate, making it with less than 2 minutes before they closed the door, what a rush!Our flight to Sweden went by without comment, except that neither of us slept. During our 5 hour layover in Stockholm however, we were approached by a young man working for some agency that was suing the airline for not notifying the passengers about the layover though,he told us we might get a few hundred out of the deal, which we thought was cool, so we signed his papers and boarded the plane to Bangkok. I can't believe we made it! Four crazy weeks in Europe, and now 6 weeks in Asia? What will happen next?
The Principles of Prague
After roughly two weeks here in Bratislava it's finally time to leave. It's been really slow in Slovakia, but I've met some good people here and had good times. Our destination? Prague. Hitlers favorite city, which is the only reason it wasn't leveled to dust like most everything else in Europe during the war. Fun fact huh? As usual I make my way to the station alone by taking the bus. And as usual Zane is late, arriving by car. I get a Subway sandwich before our bus arrives and devour it before it departs, not that I endorse Subway, or even sandwiches for that matter, which are abominations anyway you slice it, but being stuck without food on a bus or anywhere for that matter, is an undesirable situation, especially while traveling. Luckily I also had a bag of oranges for us to eat, which lasted till we ate the last two while leaving Prague's bus station. My first impressions of Prague were really very good. It is a clean city, rich in history, culture and architecture, again, thanks to Hitler, with plenty to see and do. Among Prague's other prestigious accolades are it's draw of people from all over the world for vacationing and that it has some of the cheapest and finest beer I've ever tasted, and taste it we did, repeatedly...We checked into our hostel and unloaded our bags. The whole place was themed, each room having the name of the artist who painted it on the door. Ours was peter, with a sunflower theme. Just like Hungary, the Czech Republic is outside of the European Union, thus our euros needed to be changed. We asked the young lady at the desk where we could get a good rate and exchanged some money there before heading out on the town. The first place we went was the main square, where Zane was during Christmas and incidentally where the Christmas market is held. There were a few stands set up at the end with people inside and out, handing out promotions for clubs or dealing drugs in hushed tones to those alternatively minded enough to make such a visual impression, depending on the pushers critique of you of course. We didn't buy drugs offered in hushed tones or give any serious consideration to the club promotions, we just walked on, finally coming to and crossing one of the famous bridges leading to the castle on the other side of the river that divides Prague. We got to the top of the hill, which overlooked the city in a beautiful swath of open panoramic space, then ate dinner at a monk brewery inside the old church walls. It was very strong beer, and the food was delicious. Zane said it was his first time having duck. It was all pretty pricey, but worth it. At having met our elegance quota for the day, if not the entire week, thanks to the duck and celibate recipe beer, we shifted gears and headed back to our hostel with a bottle of rum, beers, a group of Canadians and a Hungarian woman. The group of us very quickly became too loud for our surroundings and took the party to the brewery next door. There, a string of unfortunate events lead us both back to the hostel in sorrier shape than before.First, Zane and I were having a drinking contest with our 1L beers, seeing who could finish faster than the other, but I was too drunk to keep drinking so I tried giving my beer to the Hungarian woman, but Zane wasn't going to let that happen, and slapped the beer out of my hands and spilt the whole thing on the table. To which Zane started laughing uncontrollably. Then we, As in I, started yelling about this and that political thing with the Canadians, at which point they left, presumably for bed.Second, I went to the bathroom and tripped straight down the stairs nearly knocking down a waitress in my path, I curled and avoided her though. She just happened to be our waitress as well and had the stink eye on me the rest of the night, clearly with good reason. On our way out of the brewery, Zane ran and tackled me into the street, giggling as we both tumbled to the ground, but I don't remember that, the Hungarian told me the next day after I complained about how bad my ass hurt. "It was probably when Zane tackled you in the street." She said, "what, he tackled me?" I asked, totally surprised. "Oh yeah.. Pretty hard too. That's when I decided to go home, you guys were on whole other level. Do you remember what happened after that?" She asked, with mused interest. To make things easier on us both I summed up the night with," we just went out and drank more, walking a long way and then came home." All true, but completely devoid of specifics, a conversational specialty of mine usually employed by lawyers, salesman, politicians, philosophers and compulsive liars alike. What I do remember after the brewery is going to some super sleazy strip club in the same square we were earlier today, with blue tinted black lights everywhere, and shadowy characters in every corner of the establishment all thinking about the contents and limitations of things in their pants, or lack there of as it was for us. For in places like this the only thing one does is hand money to naked ladies, or leave, nothing else. So we ordered stiff drinks, finished them in a haze of cigarette smoke, watching bodies twisting and turning in ways best left to the imagination, words failing to express what is otherwise an experience held in private quarters at establishments just like this. After leaving we were immediately surrounded by shades approaching from the alleys outside the club, and were offered the same drugs by the same people as earlier, only now there was nothing hushed about their tones, no critiques or double takes in their choice of words or to whom they are spoken. If your on this street, at this hour, coming out of that strip club, your either already on drugs, or looking for some, and the guys to sell it to you are right there, they always are. So we talk to these guys for a minute and the first thing they show me is a bag of what looked like laundry detergent. Zane and I just laugh at them, pointing at the little blue balls that lined the bag. Without skipping a beat the short and stalky, leather jacket wearing dealer puts away the laundry detergent and pulls out a bag of green stuff, and when a good smell of its contents clears inspection and passes mustard I buy some before our long walk back home. Before we return to the hostel, Zane and I get pizza and veggie kebabs. Zane was out of Czech money so he used the $10 I gave to Zuzka for gas money in Bratislava, which she gave to him because she owed him $10 as well. Now Zanes using it to pay for our food.Zane woke up the next morning without any small change and swore the kebab guy just took all of the change after we got our food. I've had it happen before and we were very drunk, happens all the time. Ahh the flow of money, how creative! We then crossed the street and smoked outside the front door of the hostel, falling asleep promptly upon finishing. It was a good night, but not without it's appropriate toll.
American Outlaws in Hungary
I had a long night out with a Vierka and two French couch surfers who are riding their bicycles through Europe for 6 months, thats these guys:https://m.facebook.com/Electripdream-246190632219484/?ref=bookmarks . It was rough having to be at Zuzkas for a ride to the train station the next morning, especially having to walk through the rain. We got to the station with less than 10 minutes to buy our tickets and board the train, so we split up into two different lines in case one was faster. With 1 minute to spare we stood at the platform, tickets in hand, the train was 2 minutes late. The cabin was clean, air conditioned and very nice in general, there were already four people there but we squeezed in, which was fine because the train would empty more and more on our several hour journey to the Hungarian capital of Budapest.When we passed into Hungary the border security guards got on our train and went cabin to cabin asking for "Papers please?" Zane and I totally spaced. "Um papers?" Having just crossed international borders without passports they could easily send us back to Slovakia on the next train, or worse, and more likely, detain us until confirming our identities. We both handed them our California drivers licenses hoping beyond reason that this would not spell disaster for us. "These will not work, where are your passports?" The black clad duo bellowed, each now resting their hands on their service pistols. "Were sorry we totally forgot them, we didn't even think about it." They looked at each other, said some scary sounding adjectives in Hungarian and continued in English "how long will you be in Hungary?" "Two days.." Another round of harsh sounding language and questioning fascial features to each other."If you travel internationally you need passports! Don't forget!" The large lady officer said, and then slided the door closed. It was a miracle of modern security standards for sure, had this occurred in the United States of America we would have experienced a very different outcome. The rest of the trip we wondered if they would change their minds and send us back. After this the train came to a slow and time consuming crawl through the suburbs of the city, an hour later we finally made it to Budapest. The train station there is actually pretty cool, certainly much better than the one in Bratislava. We made it to the city center and walked in circles around the block that supposedly had our hostel, once we found it, we checked in and met a very passionate and smiling Hungarian girl who worked there. She was telling us about all the pub crawls and crazy drunken nights she's had recently, how much she loved krakow Poland and that I shouldn't miss it for the world. We had a welcome shot with her of homemade Hungarian liquor and then in walks Barak! The Turk who I got all political and religious with at the couch surfing party in Bratislava, Lol what a coincidence. Then we have welcome shots with them. Also joining in are two Canadian girls whose first question for us is where they can buy tampons? As Zane would so aptly put it to me later, "this should have been our first clue.."Even though Hungary is the harshest on drug laws out of all the countries we've visited yet, Zane's priority is still trying to get marijuana from a friend of his that he met here the last time he came. Somehow we talk ourselves into bring the Canadian girls with us on our walk. They see a pharmacy and head for it while we continue on. The place we have to go is several blocks away and once we find it we almost don't get anything because we couldn't get wifi and were waiting at her door without any information or clues. So we buy a small beer from a bar to use wifi, contact the contact and zane meets her while I drink his beer. After getting the weed and liquor from the store, we head back to the hostel, at this point we see two grown women, obviously drunk as skunks, holding each others hands as one was about to black out, they were leveraging all their weight against each other until their hands slipped and they both fell backwards, one hitting her head on the uneven stone road right away and knocking herself out, the other landing ass first, tearing her pants open from the crack up. Im closest to her so I give her a hand up, while Zane and the girls tend to the other.One of the Canadian girls was obsessed with helping this lady, talking to her passed out body repeatedly in English as if it made any difference. "Honey I need you to get up now. Can you tell me your name? Do you know where you are?" This lady was literally out cold, and Canada just couldn't let it go. Finally a group of locals came and she woke up. For me this was the perfect time to walk away, but not for Canada, oh no, now that this barely conscious person was aware of her surroundings Canada had to make sure she could cross all her T's and dot her i's, in English of course, a language I'm sure she didn't speak, because her other friend, who never lost consciousness, responded to my questions in pure Hungarian. I tore Canada away at this point and left the Hungarian ladies in Hungarian hands, we then returned to the hostel. We smoke, drink our bottle of gin and juice, talk to a few people in our hostel, then go out to a few places with the Canadian girls. Zane also meets up with a polish girl who comes along with us, even gifting Zane her small bottle of Vodka. She seemed to really enjoy the Canadians company. We end up smoking hookah like sheiks in some dark corner of this extremely large, three story club, with the walls heavily drawn upon by staff and guests alike I imagine. They must have been going for the classic dark art noir of heroin come downs, because thats exactly what it looked and felt like in there.We play team foosball next, the results of which I can't recall. At which point Zane and I left to dance elsewhere, but we just ended up going to get pizza two different times, at the same place, before going to bed.
Last Night In Amsterdam
I got up early and had two apples in the cafeteria alone. Zane was still asleep, I knew there would be nothing for me there, but still, I just wanted to eat in the same space as the other people there. As much of a lone wolf I seem to be at times, Im really much more of a social animal than I admit to be, even to myself. A reality most lone wolves probably share. When Zane woke up we left for the city center to have brunch, Zane didn't feel like a salad, so Venkel was out, which meant we'd have to discover something new. After walking about aimlessly in our usual way through the city center I chose a place that in the end, was way too expensive and low quality in both portion and taste for the price. Kinda bummed at the whole affair we returned to WoW and after a short rest headed back out at around 6ish for our last night out in Amsterdam. We had our first two pints each at the same place we played pool last night. We played four games together, Zane won the first game easily, I beat myself the next two games by calling the wrong hole for the 8 ball, but won the final game. Just as the night before, after playing a few games of pool the establishment told us the table was closed. Then when we left and swung around later the table was open again for other players... Was it just us? Or do they do that for everybody all the time just to keep the competitive nature in people down to a minimum? I couldn't say. Whatever the case may be, Zane was sure it was because of his pool playing prowess and they couldn't have unbeatable players ruling the table.Since we were now fairly inebriated, the next thing to do was to smoke, this time it was my idea, so I got to choose the place. Remembering a sweet little shop we entered before but left for lack of a bong, I decided to go there. On our way, as we were crossing a small bridge ,we saw a man flailing on the ground, twisting and reaching for things round him. He seemed to be alone but I couldn't really say. He wouldn't be for long, because a moment later several security personnel appeared and held him down. He screamed and continued to shout in panic as they then dragged him away behind an ambulance. From the looks of him, he was most probably on a strong psychedelic, mixed with all the usual suspects, tobacco and alcohol. Which in a major city environment such as Amsterdam spells disaster for almost anyone not well versed in the trans-dimensional arts. Inside this little shop I bought a gram of something and rolled it up into a pure joint. We went up to the upper level and sat by the window, watching as that poor guy was being sedated by a gang of strangers sent to take him away. It wasn't long before the shop would close, in fact we had to power smoke the joint just to beat their closing, which was fine by us. I still had some unrolled marijuana left, but I didn't care to smoke it in the morning, so I just ate it plain, which is actually not all that uncommon for me, it doesn't get you nearly as high, but its far better for you than smoking it.We went into a few more bars after that, including the karaoke bar we met the Belgian girls, which was now full of 50 high school German kids, so we didn't stick around. Then Zane convinced me to go to a live sex show, but I instantly regretted it before we got inside and backed out the last second. Instead we decided on a topless bar, which cost 5 Euros to get into for the night, instead of 2 Euros a minute for the sex show. We get into this place and its all run by ladies, topless ladies, there isn't a single lady there with a top on, so it's well and truly a topless bar. Everywhere you looked there was a seductress of one flavor or another waiting for the smallest excuse to run up to a guy and trap him in a lap dance, or better yet there was a bleach blond white girl at the bar who would fling her legs around your unsuspecting head and work her thighs as she held onto a metal bar above the catwalk. That was my first impression. My second impression came down on me like the sword of Damocles, in the form of a huge black woman dancing in dangerously sharp heels on the bar. She flew down from the walkway that her and the other girls were dancing on and then she went looking wildly at each man before her with her piercing gaze. Finally she came to me and grabbed my shirt pulling me to her, I immediately threw my hands up and made every effort to indicate I had no money to pay her for the service, luckily she saw this to be true and moved on to a well dressed white man in his 60's, he tried the same technique but she wasn't buying it and he literally had to run away from her, not once but three times! At this she jumped back on the bar and tore off her underwear and went harder than ever on the pole. Three other men rejected her in the same way as she attempted then to reel them in. But I'm sure that a man befitting her caliber would be around sooner or later.by huge I mean she easily had 70 pounds of pure muscle on me and could probably pop my head open like a rotten melon between her thighs. This is not to say she was unattractive, she was simply too much woman for me or anyone there apparently to handle. Zane spent €37 on two gin and tonics that glowed in the bar light, which made is both broke for the night, so we left as soon as they were empty. We were pretty smashed when we left, I don't think we even knew where we were going. We were following behind a group of girls when suddenly and without the slightest warning one of them smashed her head into a stores plate glass window at full force. Luckily Zane and I were just in time to grab her limp body and help her down. Instantly every one of her friends disappeared, leaving just us and this poor girl who had just knocked herself out cold. She came to in a few seconds and we explained what happened to her, she seemed to understand so we helped her up, then just as soon as she seemed to be all together her eyes roll back in her head and she begins to spasm out, this time falling to the floor so quickly he couldn't catch her. This is when her friend comes back with the police. "Do you know this girl? What happened?" They say cooly, with complete detachment, obviously having seen this same thing hundreds of times before. 
Zane tells them "We were behind her when she just hit her head, we don't know her," and then I show them the mark she left on the window. Before we leave Zane gets a one on one with the girls friend and tells her that she really needs to watch her, she could really hurt herself. We leave the seen content with our part in the story and make it to the night bus, getting home by 2am, and so concludes our first trip to Amsterdam!
Alter Egos
The morning light peered in between the black out curtains of our 12 person dorm room, yet both Zane and I slept in, the walk home and the flights we took were reason enough for anyone to do so, not to mention we are on vacation. This however wasn't to last, our stomachs were growling, and that urge promotes all kinds of adventurous behavior, regardless of the situation. So we left for the super market, resupplied ourselves with organic apples and rice milk, then headed out to the city center. Not surprisingly the city was much different in the day. All the shops were open, people were everywhere and the ladies behind red lighted windows had vanished to whatever occupation or situation they possessed in the day light hours. Before we continue with the story there is something you should know. Im on this journey for two reasons. The first being that Zane and I have never gone traveling together and its the best way to reinforce your bonds with someone, or destroy them completely, depending on how strong they were to begin. This is important to me because for a few years Zane and I didn't talk at all. First because I chose to spend more time with my girlfriend than my friends in school, and ironically enough, because Zane dated this same girl afterwards and she wanted nothing to do with me, neither did Zane. A solid karmic consequence. But years later after they broke up, Zane and I became friends again, and here we are.The second reason I'm going is because I love traveling and the bonus reason is that I already had a return flight to Europe before I ever agreed to join Zane on his trip. So its really a perfect string of coincidences, if you believe in such things..Zane's reasons are the same but with other emphasis', such as wanting to party. Which although I do partake in, I've long since passed my partying heydays. This is most definitely due to my change in diet and lifestyle, and for which I am eternally grateful. So, what makes Amsterdam so special in terms of the party scene? Well, to start, many drugs, such as marijuana and mushrooms are legally sold and used here. There are a great number of "coffee shops" as they call them that sell marijuana in large variety of strains and ways in which to use them, such as pipes, bongs, pre-rolled mixes of tobacco and marijuana etc. but smoking straight tobacco in the shops is strictly forbidden, or in some cases, allowed in sectioned off areas of the establishment, our first Coffee shop was such a place. After walking around a while looking for one we found the Dolphins Coffee shop. Inside it was designed to imitate an underwater marijuana wonderland. With the walls made out of ejection foam molding and painted blue and green, with artwork all over it of mermaids and sand castles. Everywhere you looked there was Marijuana in one form or another, the seaweed for example, was Marijuana. The mermaids hair as well. We ordered a strain of the shops own creation, Dolphin Diesel, their strongest Indica, sativa hybrid and got one of their bongs to smoke with, which was actually very dirty, it looked like it had been smoked out of 150 times since it was last cleaned. There are a number of reasons why this isn't an ideal situation. Cleanliness being the first, ease and effectiveness of use being second. The other thing about this bong that struck us both was that it had a carb, a whole at the bottom to place your finger over and release when you were ready for the smoke. No bong we've ever seen has had one.This was the first time Id smoked in over three weeks, so after 2 hits I was very much inside the ocean surrounding us. Zane on the other hand had smoked within 24 hours so his tolerance was much higher, he went on to hit it 5 times, which would have made me as useful as a doormat underwater. As much as I enjoy where being in these states takes me, I've always believed in being more in possession of my wits when abroad then not. In fact these I days I feel that way regardless of where I am. The assistant behind the bar was reserved but friendly enough. The only thing that put us aside from every other person that came in was that she didn't ask to see our ids, probably the beards. The thing we came to understand very quickly about Amsterdam is that the people here, especially the coffee shop and bar owners have to deal with a multitude of people from all different cultures getting legally high on all kinds of drugs and most of them are not prepared to handle the social graces of such an experience. Thus the locals have very strict and immovable policies towards visitors and have no problem asserting their position. Which is, follow the rules, or get the fuck out. Mind games don't work on them either, so don't think you can Jedi mind trick your way through town. Respect the rules and stay cool, if you cannot do this, you'll quickly be schooled. We left the Dolphins after feeling sufficiently coordinated to do so and had a few local beers at a pub before heading back to the hostel for some rest. During this time I remained in the lobby while Zane slept. There I met two people whom I got increasingly philosophical with about reality, god, purpose and choices. It was an impressive rant on my part, more and more these days I can stop myself from talking and have patience enough to listen while engaged in deep metaphysical or political discussions, unless Im drunk and high, which is exactly what happened next.We entered the city, found a bar and ordered a pint of beer each, we immediately struck up a conversation with the bartender and his friends who were all transplants to Amsterdam of a decade or more each. Three pints later and a few hits of Zane's pipe and I was the old Danny again, raving mad like Hitler in the beer hall, oblivious to the shock and awe I was unleashing upon unsuspecting and undeserving customers. Certain as any prophet sent by god shouting his gospel to any and all if only they would listen. It was 3 Am before I realized the bar was nearly empty and about to close. In truth Zane was the one that got us out of there, his senses of the situation were much keener than my own. We exited into the street and hailed a taxi, he wanted 17 euro for our ride home, which I flatly refused, my go to response to any negotiation regardless of time and place since beginning my traveling experiences alone. But Zane had already gotten in, and agreed on the price, my nose wrinkling as I exhaled sharply, I quickly got in. We were dropped off a half a mile away from our hostel, my fault for giving the only directions I could remember, so we walked the remainder of the way. During all of which Zane was convinced Id led us a stray. But I knew where we were, thanks to my two hour stroll through this part of the city to find the Alchemist Garden, and within a few minutes we were asleep in our bunks...
Knowing your environment
The first thing you do when you arrive in a new country, is get yourself oriented. For those of you who think you need no sense of direction whatsoever because your being guided everywhere you go, I would point out that a sense of space time relation to your experience is of great value, on a tour, on your own, or everyday life, it doesn't make a difference. The ability to lead oneself or others towards your goal, and keep a reliable record of your path is a fundamental skill in life. Without it, you would not be alive here today. Hone it, and it will serve you well. This rule is especially true in megacities, ones so big and complex they are known well not in totality but in speciality to groups of people. So having a map, with your desired locations already clearly marked, is a superb advantage. Yes you can google it, but wheres the fun, or safety, in keeping your head permanently lowered at your screen, with countless dangers surrounding you in an environment you don't know, following directions from a robot voice who could care less about your circumstances, when you can look at everything around you, engaged in the experience, and asking others, especially locals, for help. Not that the locals of such megacities will be too keen to help every single tourist, of which millions come every year, but it is a good strategy in general. There is no better guide than a local after all. My time in Sweden was very short, one full day and two nights. When I arrived at the airport I exchanged $60 into 400 something Krona, which added to my left over Krona from last time. Bought a ticket on the bus with my moms debit card, they don't take cash in many places around Europe now. Digital cash is more and more the choice of the Banks. Less to worry about on their end, but what about mine, what about yours? What happens to privacy when you cant possibly buy something, without a record of it tied to your whole life's purchasing history? You know how any product you look at on the internet comes up in those pop up windows? Well what happens when those things are based on a lifetime worth of data and not just a one time shopping desire? Especially for things you want to keep to yourself. Either way, it will be a much different world than today. Arriving in Stockholm central I figured the general direction of the hostels in town and headed out. The first locals I met to ask for directions to a certain street were just walking away from a taxi they refused to get into. I asked the lady for help and "piss off!" Was my answer. Thinking nothing of it I turned to the gentleman behind her and she swung around to face me as though just realizing I was there, probably true as she seemed quite drunk. "Oh im sorry, I didn't mean you, it was the taxi. What do you need?" All they could muster in their state was what I already knew, the general direction I was to go, and so I went. Soon after that I walked passed a nice looking Hostel, named city backpackers. The hostel was full so I was given two other options. Although the cheapest choice was closest, the desk clerk suggested I chose the latter of the two, which, I was to find, was closed to reservations long before I arrived. The 2nd option was my last. Upon arrival my first impression was that I could relate to the desk hands suggestion, but that for my needs it was superior to more than half of all the hostels I've ever stayed with. I chose to stay one night, and look around tomorrow for better one or remain here. My bed was in a room of seven double bunk beds, with 8 or so people. The most notable thing to say about it was that each bed had its own locker and night lamp affixed to the frame above your pillow. It was 1am when I finally put my things away and got in bed. Two things of note happened between getting in bed at 1am and going to sleep at 4am. First, me and another guy had to tell another room mate to leave the room while talking on his phone, and second, I got out of my bed and turned off a bed light which someone had left on in a bunkbed that wasn't even in use and no one had thought to turn off for their own sake or those of the group to help sleep. Even after 2am! This helped greatly for me to relax, even with the blinding street lamp outside shining through the cracks in our blinds straight on my pillow. By 3:30am my nerves were beginning to fray. I had gotten enough sleep on the planes to keep me alert but not enough to give me peace. So I repeated the following mantra:Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find. This mantra alone is worth 15,000 hours of education, once you understand your power to draw whatever you want to yourself by what you keep in your mind, you become the master of your own creation, how nice that everything you could ever want is all inside to begin with. And so, asking to sleep, and seeking it out, pushing all else away in my mind, I slept. In the morning I set out to find the best Organic shops around town. After buying a gigabyte internet credit for my phone, for which I used the sim card I bought but couldn't use last year when I was here because my previous iphone was locked. Anyways it was very useful in allowing me to finish tasks I had left unfinished at home and look for new places to see in Stockholm and also for my next stop in Amsterdam. The first place I went was closed, but the second was open. This place was very well decorated, with a beautiful atmosphere. I made my own salad and told the owner I run a raw Organic Juice shop in my hometown, he then became very interested in speaking with me. His name was Johannes and shared with me a great deal of his goals to open enough shops to one day, "be bigger than McDonalds" a worthy goal indeed!I got some aloe water and headed off in search of Stockholm's only Cold pressed juice bar. After wondering around the subway for a good hour I finally got to the right area. In this case every local I asked was as clueless as the next about where this juice bar might be. I finally found it though, it looked as though it hadn't been open for a long time, weeks maybe or even months. Maybe its the way it always looks and once they sell out they revert to anonymity, who knows. I returned to the hostel and got some shut eye, the staff let me check out and return my key, while I slept until I having to leave at 3:30am for my flight to Amsterdam, Europe's capital city of legal drugs, sex and mayhem...