3 Ducks Hostel - Paris

I don’t think any amount of preparation could have prepared me for the variety that awaited me at the 3 Ducks. Tip: don’t choose a hostel that doubles as a bar. At first we thought that it’d be cool to have a bar at the Hostel, but it turns out that it just attracted the younger (read, I think some of these kids still needed babysitters…) crowd. The first night, our mixed dorm contained a bunch of Spanish girls who gave me the evil, dirty pervert, eye for staying in the room that ajoined theirs. They gossiped like the school girls they were until they passed out from the Pot they were smoking around 3 in the morning. Luckily the next day they moved on.

The next night, there was a bit more subdued crowd in the hostel, a bunch of Aussies that had just come into town and were beat tired. The hostel had overbooked itself, so people were sleeping on mattresses thrown on the floor. Someone welcomed us back from our day out by puking in the trash can and all over the bathroom. Something tells me that I've grown up slightly from my college days. I'm not sure whether this is good or not.

Ear plugs are a god send.