I tip toe back into the hostel dormitory at 2.30am, not wanting to wake anybody, especially as I am going to get up after four hours and try to get on the Milford Sound excursion without a prior booking. I am not long in bed when the English bloke in the bunk above me wakes up and appears to be fighting with himself or some evil demon that has decided to pour hell and damnation upon his mattress. In danger of toppling the bed frame he suddenly jumps down and sprints across the 12-bed dorm to the balcony, where he begins urinating onto my fellow travellers’ towels and down onto the street below. But the performance doesn’t end there: Funny boy comes back into the room and is unable to find his bed. He begins to run around the room like a whirling dervish, unable to make any sense of where the front door is and indeed what the difference is between a top and a bottom bunk. There are nine other blokes plus one girl from Dundee in the dorm, and it is not long before Funny Boy starts trying to get into bed with some of them. Lucky for him most of my roommates are so tired or comatose that they only react as if a mosquito has bitten their neck in the night. And then he decides to lie down on the floor adjacent to the bloke in the next bunk bed. I am expecting this to be the end of the circus but Funny Boy suddenly bolts up and begins to put on all the clothes he finds on the floor. As he does this, the only absentee from the dorm, a Welsh lad, comes bounding through the door and trips over Funny Boy; both of them ending up on the floor, each looking as confused as the other. Consequently, living in fear of Funny Boy or the Welsh lad urinating on my bags or trying to snuggle up next to me, the remainder of my night is sleepless; sleepless in Queenstown. I decide to get up at six and go off in search of buses to Milford Sound.
“Why are you wearing my clothes?” the bloke in the bed next to me asks as he wakes up to see Funny Boy lying on the floor wearing his T-shirt and sweater.
“I don’t know. I thought I found them in a bar mate,”
The joy of youth hostels.