Unplugged

Unplugged-

Here’s how days 1 and 2 went down. Woke up at 5:30am to get to the airport at the recommended 3 hours prior to an international flight. Check bag and get boarding pass (5 minutes), through security checkpoint (10 minutes) waited at the gate for flight (2.5 hours!). Seattle to Philadelphia (5 hours), to Zurich (8 hours), 12 hours in Zurich on a power day tour, to Vienna (1.5 hours), train to hostel (45 minutes). Total travel time door to door, 33 hours. You’d think I’m used to long travel days by now, but a long ass day is a long ass day no matter how you cut. Like most people I become a victim of my own short fuse at end of long day. Mad about the rectangular shape of airplane boarding passes… Seriously who thought of that! They don’t fit in any pockets and get all bent up and shit. Mad about the people that stand right on the rail of the luggage carrousel so when your bag comes you can’t even get to it. Mad about unnecessarily long 6 syllable words (my stop on the train was “Kettenbrueckengasse”) what’s that about!? Should there not have been a 4 syllable limit in the Geneva Convention?… Anyway I finally made it to my hostel in Vienna just before midnight, crawl into my miserable top bunk and pass out.

Something that happens to many people, which does not escape me, is the dreaded travelers constipation. Caused by change in diet, inactivity and inability to go when inspiration strikes. In the past I’ve resisted writing about it for obvious reasons. Picturing someone, ANYONE, even Marisa Miller, on a toilet is simply not sexy. I already wrote 1 blog about shitting so I let this topic slide (pun intended). After my long travel day I wake up early and down 4 cups of coffee to get things moving, but only a pebbles worth of luck. I’m suddenly reminded of the time in Indonesia where I had my worst bout, and potentially very serious, case of constipation. 8 days! (Yes you heard that right). Going into day three I was determined to nip it in the bud this time around and made my way to the pharmacy.

The national language of Austria is German. That’s not a problem in tourist areas like airports and hotels as most people there will speak English. In the local apotheke (pharmacy) not so much. I lean in to the clerk and quietly tell him I need a laxative, he gives me a confused look. I say again lax-a-tive?…Nothing. He asks his coworker for help. FANTASTIC! Now both clerks, as well as the other 2 customers in the store, who’s eyes I can now feel on me, are thinking about my shitty problem. The other clerk speaks better English so takes over and brings me a box of Dulcolax. He tells me to take it before I go to bed at night, that it will take 6 hours to go into effect and in the morning I should be right as rain.

New problem. I’m sharing a room with 4 other people, two of which are girls and 1 of which is kinda hot ish. This room has a private bathroom which, curiously enough, means the exact opposite of private because all anonymity is lost. Every other person in the room knows exactly who’s in the bathroom, pretty much at all times. Not only that, but as I mentioned I’m one of the unfortunate souls in a top bunk and nobody gets out of those quietly. 6 hours isn’t going to work, I need something quicker, I let the clerk know. With everyone in my room gone on day tours here is my chance, today, now. He takes back the Dulcolax and brings back a bag that looks like Epsom salt. He slows his speech for emphasis. “Be careful with this, it is very strong, the recommended dose is 2 tablespoons which would work in about the same time frame as the Dulcolax, if you take 4-6 tablespoons it will work in about an hour, just mix it with water”. Perfect! I pay the shockingly low price of 1 Euro for this giant bag of shit salts and go on my way. Just before leaving the store he cautions me again “be sure you’re at home when you take it, it comes on strong”. I pour what I think is about 5-6 tablespoons into a water bottle and down it. Like clockwork at the 55 minute mark my stomach starts sounding like an angry giant is blowing bubbles in a cave.

I would spend 2 out of the next 3 hours in the blissful solitude of the bathroom and in the end I was thankful of 2 things; none of my roommates came back till later in the afternoon and our room had a window. I went out and got a Vienna sausage to celebrate and didn’t dare try to squeeze out a fart the rest of the day.

Bob