Throughout my holiday I had more than one moment of concern about my own levels of personal hygiene. In the first 48 hours of arriving in Austria I had five different roommates. One of those only shared the room for six hours.
Is there something people are not telling me? Do I have spinach in between my teeth? Do I have BO?
Talking of which I did share with one Iranian man who did suffer from the worst BO I have ever experienced. It hung in the air like ash from an Icelandic volcano and caused just as much disruption.
This man’s BO you could tell when he was in the room from the moment you walked through the front door of the hostel. Despite the fact our room was on the second floor right at the end of the corridor, it was easily detectable. Over the aromas emanating fro the kitchen. Over the stench of stale cigarette smoke from the smokers pit in the foyer. Over the combination of sweat, hormones and cheap deodorant worn by the teenagers on school based ski camps. This man’s offensive perfume was detectable throughout the three storey four winged hostel.
His perfume was a mix of four ingredients; sweat, feet, halitosis and faeces.
I should not complain too much as his BO did have two positive effects. Firstly it successfully replaced my with a feeling of constant nausea, so although not pleasant it was effective in helping me lose a little weight. Secondly as a long time insomniac the gaseous emissions did knock me out. Cold.
I wonder if this is what the coalition of the willing meant when they talked about WMDs? Whiffs of mass destruction.
The other recurring problem I had throughout my vacation was snoring. The antidote to the slumbering affect of BO snoring can keep one awake for hours.
The worst snorer I came a cross was in St Moritz. It was a noise that sounded as though he had inhaled some of his bedding and piece of linen was still stuck in his throat. Ironic considering my head was full of thoughts of forcing the entire duna/quilt/duvet down his throat. I tried making loud noises. I tried lobbing items at his person I even resorted to yelling, all in a vain attempt to wake him up slightly to break the snoring pattern.
It worked to a point. He did wake up slightly and he did roll over. Unfortunately he snored equally loudly whether he be on his back, side or stomach.
I barely survived one night with the one man freight train, asking to swap rooms for the following night. The hostel staff obliged, without telling me the jack-hammer was departing that day. I readily changed room leaving my one snoring companion forever behind me only to move into a room with three snorers.
Interestingly they operated like a gang of schoolyard bullies. The leader snored, and as if in an attempt to intimidate their victim, (me) the other two echoed the snore of their captain. Bullies get their sense of power from the cowering of their chosen victim. Research has shown that if people stand up to the bully there may be an initial elevation in the violence but it soon subsides and the bullying ceases as the leader loses their sense of power.
I did yell and raise the ire of the lead snorer as I woke him. After a few cross words and what I can only assume were profanities – it is very hard to maintain a verbal argument whilst laying horizontal in bunk beds on opposite sides of a darkened room when the two protagonists speak different languages. It worked though. He stopped snoring and very soon after the exhaling rumblings of his stooges also ceased.
