You can't make this stuff up.

‎We went to the bar next door for a beer after supper. I soon discovered it was a young crowd so I headed back to the hostel to go to bed.

 Eight of the people in my room were asleep. No lights on. You get the picture. I tip toe in and got my toothbrush and night shirt. I make it back to the washroom.

This central washroom with five showers and two stall serves two rooms. Ten people. So far so good. 

If you have ever been to Europe you will know bathroom stalls here have solid wood doors top to bottom. I close the door and turn the lock. Click. The lock breaks. I'm locked in. I twist the lock a million times in the next ten seconds. Nothing works.

 The automatic lights in the stall turn off. Total darkness. I have never suffered from fear if small spaces but panic set in. I start banging on the door for help. Everyone wakes up. A lady from Ottawa talks me back to sanity. They send for help. In short order the lady from the desk shows up. She says she needs to go for tools. I tell her to ask the two big German guys to kick in the door. I offer to pay. She will not go along with it. The lovely lady from Ottawa starts talking to me again. In short time front desk lady is back with her tools. 

 When she springs me free there are seven people in the washroom. 

Morgan returns with her friends to find dad has been the center of attention. ‎She asks if I'm okay and heads to bed. 

Looking back now it was classic Flintstone's with Fred banging on the door screaming Wilma. 

Looks like I am buying coffee for all tomorrow. If I live to be 100 I will never lock a bathroom door again. 

Good night everyone. 

Don MacKenzie
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