We had breakfast in the hostel. Sonya, who is not used to western food, ended up ordering muffins, and didn’t seem too impressed. To be fair they didn’t look like very good quality muffins.
We thought it was supposed to be the beer festival in Qingdao this week, but perhaps we were wrong. There were a lot of beer tents set up on the beach, but we were told mixed messages about what was happening for the beer festival and what wasn’t.
We wanted to rent an umbrella on the beach, and were approached by an old woman covered head to toe in scarves. The price she gave us was ridiculously high, so we passed her by to try and find a better bargain. The woman kept running ahead of us and talking to all of the umbrella renters before we got there. We were not impressed. We had to send some of our group members way ahead down the beach to try and talk to people before she had a chance to, and eventually she dropped her price a little. We ended up renting from her, but next time we’ll go to a different beach.
All went well under our little umbrella, as we enjoyed the fresh-ish sea air, and went back and forth between the waves and the beach, until Al, a friend of Amy’s, got stung by a massive red jellyfish. He leg and arm were all red and the big hairy man was brought down to tears. There was a long discussion about wether or not we should pee on him, but fortunately there didn’t seem to be any lasting effects. After that we were all pretty jumpy in the water, and we went to great lengths to avoid “jellyfish” that turned out to be plastic bags.
Sonya went to visit her friend in the city, while the rest of us headed back to our hostel for the all you can eat & drink thai curry and Qingdao beer night. The beer was flat. DJ, who is one of the owners and is friends with Katrina, was very apologetic about it. He offered vodka shots to mix into the beer as a consolation prize! Ray, the drunken idiot from our school trip, accepted. I tried to get a shot as well, but it seemed that DJ, who’s interests lie in the men, was only trying to get the boys drunk.
As the hostel bar closed, we convinced pretty much everyone in the place to continue the party. “TO BAR STREET” the chant began, and we piled out the door, down the hill, and into a contingency of cabs. “TO BAR STREET!” we told the driver. He had absolutely no idea what we were talking about, because Qingdao doesn’t have a bar street. Everyone ended up in different places! Nate, Sonya, and I, along with a random guy we’d met at the hostel, wandered the streets for a while, going from bar to bar, until we found a convenience shop that sold dorito chips, bought a big bag, and headed back to our hostel, quite content with our adventure.