I don't want to complain, but...

To say it upfront:

This is also not a low blow for me that will leave lasting damage.

I consider it as 'experience', as 'didn't expect that', as 'seriously, is there a 'fuck me' written on my forehead?'.

Everything bad I said about the hostel in Budapest, it all relativizes when you've been a guest (can you call it that, 'guest'?) at the Generator Hostel in Berlin.

But it's not all bad, I would be unfair to say that. The location directly at the 'Elektrische' stop at Landsberger Allee is outstanding. Although it's always suspicious when you have to emphasize positively that quick escape is the big plus of an accommodation.

In detail:

There are seven large floors, on every floor there is a shower and toilet room. It would be okay if the rooms on my floor and the floor below weren't closed the whole week.

They have two elevators. That's not much, especially when people arrive and depart with luggage, but it would be enough if one elevator wasn't out of order the whole week.

(I looked at reviews on the internet. The broken elevator seems to be a common issue.)

Then they can't handle the peace and quiet at night. And on Wednesday, I was really pissed! Champions League semi-finals with England, winning goal in the 96th minute...

They made such a noise until 2 o'clock in the night, slamming doors, shouting, singing, howling! It's really mean when you have to get up at 6 am and go to work!

Please, dear Brexit, come quickly and take them with you!

Then there was another thing:

They have a chip card as a room key.

In Münster or Prague in the hostel, you insert it into the door and it opens. In the Generator Hostel, it works like that too, but not always.

At the beginning of the week, I was standing in front of a locked door and had to reactivate the card downstairs (We remember: 6th floor, not enough elevators).

Then there was the night with the uninhibited-ecstatic Brits and the wake-up call after that.

In the hospital, patients are asked to rate their pain on a scale from 1 to 10. The ringing of the alarm clock that morning was a 9!

I quickly took a towel, soap, undershirt, underwear, toothbrush, and chip card and went down two floors to the unlocked shower room.

(You can guess what happened next? Yes, I understand that. You find it funny! Hahaha... I don't!)

Well, it happened what had to happen... a little later, I stood at the reception and raged after I could breathe freely again (chip card, 6th floor, elevator).

But authority, sovereignty, dignity, and men's underpants don't really fit together.

And while I was raging in my men's underpants and the poor part-time-service-student unlocked the card and referred me to the managing director who, of course, was not currently in the building (of course, as a managing director, I wouldn't stay in such a place either...), a thought crept in Kafkaesquely high: 'surveillance cameras...'

So please, if you find anything on Youtube under the hashtags 'fat man loses it!', 'open house day at the insane asylum', 'get yourself some pants, dude' that reminds you of this blog post, please don't send me the link!

Thanks!

I might be able to endure all of this with a little more equanimity, if there weren't two points in this upper-class-deluxe hostel that I find really outrageous:

1. If you want to 'park' your bag for a few hours on the day of departure, you have to pay for it.

2. According to the house rules, it is forbidden to bring food and drinks into the hostel. They want you to spend your money better at the vending machines and in the house bistro.

I am making up my mind after half of my journey:

Budapest is rehabilitated! The Generator Hostel is the worst place I have stayed at on my trip so far.

If they want to know how to do it better, they should look to Prague or Münster!