This summer my best friend Ken and I embarked on a 10 day Eurotrip through Madrid, Amsterdam and Berlin. After years of planning and anticipation, this trip was set to be nothing less than absolutely epic. We both knew this trip was going to be a test of endurance and willpower. Indeed, much of the trip was a struggle to get out of bed and continue living and breathing. But as usual we came out on top and had the most mind-blowing Eurotrip, better than anyone else traveling to Europe will ever have.
Anyone who is friends with us knows that Ken and I are party people, and we love turning up on a semi-daily basis. For some reason, it’s very difficult for us to not get wasted and be the most turnt people in whatever room we find ourselves in.
Ken and I are both young creatives in our mid-twenties. We’re mildly broke but we’re out here trying to make our dreams come true, him with his music—give his Soundcloud some love—and me with my travel writing. We’ve been best friends for a decade now and Ken is one of the kindest, dopest human beings I know. We know we’re both going to be famous one day.
As soon as Ken landed in Madrid, it was absolute madness. We had tickets to a club event which we had to get into by 2 a.m. But Ken’s flight had been delayed and on top of that his plane spent an hour fucking up on the tarmac after it landed. He got out of the gate at 1 a.m., we ran to catch a taxi, by 1:15 we were drinking beers and taking shots like our lives depended on it and we were safe and sound inside the club by 1:45. It was a proud accomplishment even by our standards. The club that night was lit and perfect and sexy, and I would relive that night again every night for the rest of my life.
The three days we spent in Madrid were a complete blur. Ken was very excited that in Spain beers are one euro, shots are two euros and you can drink them in the street or any other public space whenever you please. Copious amounts of Mahou and shitty tequila basically sums up our time in Madrid. By day three I seriously wasn’t sure whether we’d make it out of Europe alive. There are no photos of us in Madrid because people would probably be disgusted by our behavior during our time there. Just kidding. Here’s a photo of us at Las Musas Hostel with 50 Aussie bros and my favorite bartender in the world.
Amsterdam was absolutely lovely despite the fact that paying for anything made us want to cry. It was three pleasant days of walking around canals, perusing coffeeshops, watching Eurocup matches and trying not to get run over by furious bikers. We linked up with the manager of Green House Coffeeshop who told us he had watched the NBA Finals with Rihanna the week before. And we ate at an elegant restaurant where you can smoke marijuana from a vape while you eat your food. It was quite the cultural experience.
Four days in Berlin was the last leg of our trip and we were fucking stoked out of our minds as soon as we arrived. Berlin is the city of dreams and art and eternal youth. Ken and I fit in very well with the vibes there. Now that we were back in a place where alcohol was in our price range it was four more days of reckless debauchery. However, our bodies were decaying and struggling to perform basic functions like moving or turning oxygen into carbon dioxide each passing day.
Our favorite moment has to be when we got into Berghain, aka the most famous club in the world. After watching 20 people in front of us get rejected without explanation by those infamously hard-ass bouncers—the most notorious tattooed Sven, is actually kind of hot—Ken and I got in with no problems, officially validating our status as the coolest people we know. It was definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience to hang out in an incredible hardcore industrial space with world class music and sound systems to overwhelm you. I told Ken I’d give him money when leaving the club to buy a t-shirt downstairs but I spent all my money getting smashed at the bar so he couldn’t buy the shirt and I still feel really bad for being such a degenerate that particular night. Operative words: that particular night (only).
Surprisingly we got a lot of sightseeing in during our time in Berlin from Tempelhof Feld Park, Charlottenburg Palace, Brandenburg Gate, Tiergarten and of course, the East Side Gallery. We also spent lots of time eating currywurst, halloumi, German bread and Vietnamese food. Obviously it was all super bomb.
We were extremely sad but also extremely relieved to go home alive by the end of our journey. While we were grabbing a cheeky Nando’s at London Gatwick Airport during a layover, Ken and I agreed not to drink for at least 5 business days once we got back to California. We managed to last 3 full business days before going out for sake bombs.
It’s been hard for me to adjust back to life in the U.S., and Ken and I miss Europe a lot, especially those one euro beers. Despite the fact that our Eurotrip was extremely rough on our mind, body and soul, would we go back and do it all again? You bet your ass we would, and we will. Real soon.