Inspired by the Bollywood movie ‘Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara’, Parul and I planned a trip to Europe. Of course in the movie a Euro-adventure was part of this guy’s bachelor party, while neither of us was attached at that time. We had booked travel to and stay in four to five countries, promised ourselves some bungie-jumping and secretly dreamed of meeting prince charming (I know at least I did).
First stop was Paris. I flew in to CDG from Heathrow and Parul from CST Mumbai. It was well co-ordinated this time, once bitten twice shy in my case. We made train reservations to Innsbruck from Lyon, then Zurich, back to Grenoble in France and then to Barcelona, along with a return ticket to Paris from Spain. With uncontainable pride and glee, we took the train to our b’n’b. As we walked out of Montmarte train station, the most amazing sight, and not in a positive way. A bunch of Eastern European and African men exchanging rolled-up smokes from their baggy pants and making loud comments on every passer-by. The street was filthy and the traffic seemed wary of these gangs. Naturally as Parul and I walked by, some of the guys playfully dodged us speaking in French. We kept thinking ‘Not here, I hope the dorm is far away from this hell.’ Alas! The map took us right at the heart of the incorrigible part of the street. Turns out, this dorm was the choicest head-quarters of the rowdies.
Young and brave, we marched in to be served. There was no one at the reception and so we waited. The very same road-side romeo who made a remark came behind the desk to check us in. We were visibly disgusted and refused to act friendly. The interior of the so called dorm was as bad as the wretched train station. We told each other, all we needed this place for was to spend the nights. It was going to be ok. Little did we know, it was far from ok. While we had booked a four (bunk) bed room, we were ushered to a FIFTEEN bed dorm. What was worse, was that we were the only two girls among thirteen other men and guess what,?!? One common bathroom. Now the receptionist determined to avenge his hurt ego, paid no attention to our complaints. ‘No room, no room.’ He dismissed us.
Day one – We woke up way before any of the men did to take a quick shower. No, neither of us used the toilet through the night till we got out to get some breakfast. The basilica, crepes and live music at Sacre Coeur made us forget about the nightmare inn. It was past to 1opm, some of the guys were drinking, we decided to grab a bite. We had bought some canned food and bread that simply needed a microwave and a toaster. However the spider and roach filled kitchen, killed the little appetite that was remaining since we entered the dorm. Parul and I quietly and swiftly went to bed without even changing into night clothes.
Day two – Woke-up famished and with a full bladder. “Forget shower, forget appearance. Just get out.” Parul whispered. We brushed our teeth and rushed out while some of our hungover roommates were ogling for the whole 5minutes. Believe me it felt like a couple of hours! We changed into fresh clothes in a public restroom that seemed first-rate compared to this one. That day we covered most popular attractions including the Eiffel tower, Tuileries and Louvre, Arc de Triomphe etc. Absolutely knackered we returned to our dorm. This time around, I didn’t notice the filth, commotion, roaches or the men. As some of them drank to a stupor, we shut the main door and finally managed a shower. Once again, we went to bed before any of them got in. Just as I thought to myself, well living with thirteen strange men hasn’t been so bad (except for the bathroom), the guy perpendicularly adjacent to my bed (the top bunk) started to kick frantically. The metal frames made a loud clanging sound, not to mention the jerks and quakes. Parul yelled, “What the hell was that?” Each and every one of those thirteen men was fast asleep but we couldn’t catch a wink. I tried waking the guy up by calling out, cursing, shaking his bunk bed, but what do I know the benefits of drinking that much.
Day three – They were all still alseep, we got dressed without being watched. Went to Pompidou, Champselysees, Notre Dame, souvenir shops and back to Sacre Coeur. This our final night at the dorm, we felt pain and joy, fear and relief at the same time as we walked in. The dorm was busy, particularly our room, it was packed. It seemed as though they knew we were coming. A pile of Nepali boys, stacked on one another, began drooling as they saw us. “But of course, the one thing that was missing in this place, the attention.” I murmured, sarcastically. The kicker on the upper bunk was still sleeping. I did suspect if he was conscious or even alive. Parul suggested I sleep with her in the lower bunk. As we wrapped up all the sorting and packing, one of the guys mustered up and spoke, “Are you from India?” Parul nodded. “We are from Nepal and we speak Hindi”. We didn’t give them anything to work with, there was going to be no conversation between us. The other boys patting and coaxing this one to speak more. “How long are you girls in Paris?”, he said. I told him with a straight face we weren’t interested in chatting and they should go about their business. I turned off the lights and laid next to Parul. The six of them, still hanging on each other, still probably drooling in the dark, continued watching us anticipating some show, as though Parul and I will soon start making out. I had to turn the lights back on and scream for them to disperse.
It was only the following morning, around 4am, that we noticed a cleaner and an isolated bathroom along the corridor. It may have been for employees only but we had to make up for four days, and so used it to our hearts’ content. We dashed out by 5am and took the train to the next destination, Innsbruck, Austria. I dropped the hope of meeting my prince charming like a hot potato and fled the place without looking back.
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