German boys: 1, Irish boys: 0

Yesterday began terribly and slowly became worse until finally erupting in a ray of awesomeness.

Of all the people I could meet, I found the single most irritating Irishman on the planet and agreed to spend the afternoon with him walking around central London.


Ed is a small, nervous fellow with a shaved head and one front tooth. He’s annoying in the trying-really-hard-to-be-affable-but-coming-off-incredibly-obnoxious way. The perfect example of this was his insistence every thirty seconds or so that I smile. We’re standing on the train: “Smile!” We’re walking down the street: “Smile!” We’re sitting in a pub: “Smile!” It got really old, really quickly and my patience evaporated in less than an hour. “I DON’T WANT TO SMILE RIGHT NOW.” Also relentless was his insistence that I relax. I could’ve been laying on a beach, getting a massage, drinking a Mai Tai while angels sang sweet songs in my ears and Ed would still find it necessary to yell, “Relax! Don’t worry!” in my ear every five minutes. Needless to say, I couldn’t relax around him at all.

We attempted to see a movie in Leister Square, but it was very over-priced and we had just missed the closest show times. I couldn’t handle being around Ed any longer without a movie or something to drown him out, so I told him that I wanted to go back to the hostel and write. He decided to stay in central London and wander around, so I took the underground back on my own, went up to my room in the hostel and within five minutes met a couple of the coolest guys I’ve ever known.

Enter: Felix and Philipp, the Germans


Felix, 23, and Philipp, 25, met while studying abroad in New Zealand four years ago. It was there that they perfected their English and became good friends. They stopped in London on their way back from Ireland, where they were visiting Philipp’s sister and celebrating St. Patrick’s Day.

After spending an afternoon with Ed, I was losing confidence in my ability to correctly judge others, but I quickly determined that Felix and Philipp were hilarious, easy-going, fun guys. And it was only a matter of hours before I had developed a small crush on Philipp.

It is impossible to describe the kind of fun we had last night. I haven’t had that kind of an immediate connection with two complete strangers in such a long time. We hung around our room and talked to Jared, a sleepy Australian, before heading downstairs to the “Chill-out Room.” There, we played a ping pong tournament, making up new rules and using the one ball we could find until it broke from repeated exposure to surfaces other than the ping pong table. There was never a shortage of conversation, especially with Felix around, and I learned all about my new German friends. Philipp used to work in Ghana, helping children, and is currently paying for the high school education of a boy he grew close to during his year there. Felix wants to teach German to children, has abnormally large hands, and loves to joke about his handsome face. They both like Green Day and find it silly that Americans associate Germany with David Hasselhoff and The Sound of Music.

We stayed in the Chill-out Room for hours and the boys each finished off their eight packs of ½ liter beers, but neither seemed particularly drunk. Felix was not satisfied with having consumed a mere four liters of beer, so we decided to take to the streets in search of a pub. Little did we know, everything in London closes at 11:00 p.m. We wandered down cobblestone courts and I stared at the oddly-shaped taxi cabs and tall, packed-in houses. The boys playfully bickered and Philipp bit Felix’s finger so hard that it needed photographic documentation.


Felix began singing a line from a German song that had been in his head for days. They taught it to me:

“Doch so aufgewuhlt hab ich dich nic gesehen …”

We hollered it at the top of our lungs and didn’t care who we woke up. Soon the line was stuck in my head as well, even though I didn’t know what it was about or how to correctly pronounce the words.

Eventually we came across a pub that was open for ten more minutes. Felix and Philipp ordered cocktails and I got a Coke. We sat around a giant booth and talked, over-staying our welcome by about twenty minutes. I gave Philipp a pin from America that I found in my pocket. It said, “Foreplay is for pussies.” I hoped that he wouldn’t understand what it meant and would walk around with it pinned to his lapel, but he understood right away and laughed, slipping it in his pocket.

After getting kicked out of the pub, we wandered the streets some more, singing our song and searching for food. We came across a bagel shop, so I ordered a falafel and Felix ordered a chicken sandwich. We walked back to the hostel and ate our food in the chill-out room. Eventually Felix went to bed and Philipp and I stayed up until 4:00 a.m., talking about politics and religion and the differences between our countries.

Once we finally went to bed, I couldn’t sleep. The night had been so perfect. It was exactly what I’d been hoping to experience in Europe. I smiled as I lay there, excited for days to come and thought about how incredible it is that I’m actually doing this, staying here, meeting these people, having this adventure all on my own.

When I woke up the next morning, I knew something was wrong. My stomach was gurgling in a way that wasn’t normal. I got up, after only having slept a few hours, and told the boys that I would meet them in the Chill-out Room after showering.

I threw up in the shower. Three times. Clearly I wasn’t going to be able to go anywhere that day. I told Felix and Philipp and they were disappointed, but understood. They asked if there was anything they could do and Philipp gave me his mobile number in case I felt better later on. I gave them both hugs and went back to bed.

Four hours later, I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on my door. I waited, and listened to see if the person would go away. Suddenly I heard a familiar melody:

“Doch so aufgewuhlt hab ich dich nic gesehen …”

I laughed and got up to answer the door. There were Felix and Philipp with an armful of bottled water, Coke, warm, fresh bread, waffles, chewing gum, and gummy rings. “We’ve come to see how you’re feeling,” said Philip. “And we brought you some food.”

I invited them in and they kept me company for an hour and a half before leaving to catch their flight back to Germany. We each put on a gummy ring and Felix declared us the “Ring Connection.” Philip was “The Mouth,” Felix was “The Finger,” and I was “The Stomach.” We stuck our fists together and vowed to keep the rings on forever. Or at least until they became too sticky and gooey to manage, which only took an hour.


I stayed in bed for the rest of the day after the boys left, waking only to sip some water and getting up to vomit.

It’s been a pretty emotional last few days … crying at the airport, frustration over failed technology, irritation with an Irish boy, laughing with German boys, and now vomiting in a communal bathroom every few hours. There are moments when I wish I was home - mainly when my face is hovering over the toilet - but I think that this is good for me. I’m going to tough it out and enjoy this extended vacation. I’ve got a lot left to do on my agenda and I have barely even begun to get to it all. After today, there are a couple more stops to add to my agenda while I’m in Germany. Hopefully additions like these will keep coming.