Drunken shenanigans abroad: Women share their stories

Ah, alcohol. Your best friend on a Saturday night and your worst enemy on a Sunday morning. Maybe even more often while traveling, as you might find yourself losing track of time and don’t even know which day it is anymore. Any day could be Saturday. Or Sunday. And why would anyone blame you, as long as you’re not flashing your birthday suit and puking your guts out on public property?

And even then, who am I to judge?

You know what they say; you’re only young once (although that saying and the acronym kind of makes me cringe).

A big part of traveling is socializing with locals and fellow travelers, isn’t it?


I’ve made a whole lot of friends (on Facebook) while drunk. Heck, I’ve even become best friends with people while drunk. I swear I’ve even felt like some of them were my soul mates. Sister from another mister. Brother from another mother. You know what I mean. Pals for life. Or at least until the next day, where I completely forgot everything about them and had no idea what these strangers were doing on my friends’ list on Facebook.

I remember that one time while waiting in line for the bathroom at a gay club in Orlando, Florida, when I became best friends with a fierce drag queen. I honestly don’t remember what we talked about, except from me telling her I loved her cheekbones and her telling me she loved my dress. And somehow we became friends on Facebook.

Then there was the guy who squeezed my belly that one time when I went to a nightclub in Paris, France. I told him I really loved pizza, and that’s why I was fat. He told me I was still beautiful, so it didn’t matter. Weird. That guy did not end up on my friends’ list.

Then there was that one time when I drunk-dialed my mom while I was in a bar in Oxford, England. The DJ played an 80’s song that reminded me of her, so I phoned her up and cried on the phone. It resulted in my mom being worried sick, and me being an emotional wreck the whole evening, then not remembering a thing the next day and wondering why my mom kept asking me if I was okay.

Then there was that one time in Krakow, Poland, when I ended up making out with a guy who was my friend and only my friend and we were never supposed to be more than just friends. He was sad because all the Polish girls were more into one of our other travel companions (who normally had no luck with women at home) and I was, well, available and kind of into him at the time. The guy looked like a spitting image of Stifler from American Pie – and his behavior was quite the same as well. This is not  a compliment, so please don’t question my taste. Still, the guy made me laugh. And his dance moves were the most hilarious I’d ever seen. He tried to look as sensual as a sizzling Latino, but his dance moves reminded me more of some strange kind of disco-dancing. After leaving the club, Stifler and I started kissing in the hotel lobby, then in the elevator and the corridor – before I came to my senses and told him good night.

Speaking of dudes. Now, this didn’t actually happen abroad. It happened in my hometown, but the person involved was a tourist – so I guess it sort of counts. I went to a nightclub in Stavanger, Norway with a friend and we ended up dancing with some Swedish guys. One of them ended up buying me lots of drinks, and I kept on drinking them. We were dancing and having a great time. And then something happened that ruined the entire atmosphere. He farted. At first I wasn’t sure if it was him or someone else on the dance floor who passed gas, but as we went to the bar to buy drinks (and escape from the smell) he farted again. Was he nervous? Had he eaten a bad burrito that day? Who knows.

mango cocktail

I asked a few ladies (fellow travel bloggers) to share their own experiences from some of their most interesting and memorable drunken nights abroad. These are their stories (and photos).

Meeting the love of my life – drunk in Thailand

After checking into Hug Hostel in Chiang Mai, I threw my bag on the top bunk and sat down. The English guy on the lower bunk, called Ed, started chatting away to me. He asked me if I wanted to go out to a bar that night with a few other people. Of course, I said yes.

Later on, 10 of us sat in the hostel playing drinking games and then headed out to Zoe in Yellow. Although it was a bar, it felt more like a club. The DJ was blasting dubstep and everyone was chugging buckets. To my disgust, it closed at 12 am. But I was still buzzing.    I wanted to keep going!

I asked around if anyone wanted to get drinks somewhere else. Ed was the only one that said yes. So we walked down to the 7/11 to get more beer, but they couldn’t serve it after 11 pm. We turned to walk back to the hostel, when I spotted a random hotel. I asked the manager inside if he had any beer. He smiled and pulled out two cold ones from behind his wooden desk. Ed and I sat in reception drinking our beer when I noticed a bellhop cart. Somehow, we ended up pushing each other around the hotel on this cart. And even weirder, the manager just stood laughing at us!

Ed and I went up a floor and climbed onto the roof. We talked for hours. And made out. We ended up spending a week together in Chiang Mai, then another 6 days in Koh Samui and Koh Tao in Southern Thailand. When you’re travelling, you never know if you’ll see someone again.

Admittedly, I had tears in my eyes when I was driving away from him. But when I got back home to Northern Ireland, Ed flew from England to see me. We kept flying back and forth. I spent Christmas with his family, and he spent New Years at mine. A year later, we’re in the best relationship we’ve both ever had. We’ve been to 6 countries together. In November, we’re going to Australia for one year, and who knows after that. It’s strange how one drunken night can have a massive effect on your life. I certainly never thought I’d meet the love of my life!

by Chloe @ journeywithchloe

chiang mai

Drunk and lost in Mallorca

Okay, let me start this off with a word of advice: DON’T get drunk and wander the streets of a foreign country. Luckily nothing bad happened to me, but I was fortunate!

When I was living in Madrid I took a solo trip around Europe. My final destination was Bergen, Norway. As most of you probably know, Norway is super expensive, and so are the flights (for Europe standards). All of the direct flights to Madrid were over 300 euros, which is crazy expensive for a European flight. Hell, I had just gone to Rome for a measly 40 euros!

The cheapest ticket I could find was to the island of Mallorca, for around 76 euros. I booked a ticket from Bergen to Palma de Mallorca, and planned on doing a stopover there for a couple of nights before returning to Madrid. Flights from Mallorca to Madrid are like, 15 euros, so I thought I might as well take a mini-vaycay before heading back to the city!

Ugh. Big mistake.

My flight arrived to Mallorca at 7:50 pm. I got a taxi from the airport and arrived to my hotel around 8:15 pm, only to find the reception to be locked and empty.

It turns out the hotel closed at 8 pm, and any travelers arriving after would be left without a room. And nothing could be done about it. A hotel closing at 8 pm is complete asinine to me, but I digress. My phone battery was dead, so I went to the closest bar to get WiFi on my laptop and book another hotel.

I should have just gone to Starbucks…

Stressed and upset Kerry decided to get a few drinks to calm her nerves. Stressed and upset Kerry had a little more to drink than she originally planned. Kerry got drunk. Like, really drunk.

Fast forward an hour or two, and I was obliterated. They take alcohol seriously in Mallorca, and one drink may be equal to two or tree drinks with the amount of liquor they put in. I’m tiny, and pretty much one of the biggest light weights ever. So by the time I left the bar to go to the new hotel, I was druuuunk.

Now, this is the time for you all to learn from my mistakes.

I had Google Maps out in one hand, rolling luggage in my other, a huge backpack on, whilst wandering aimlessly in the streets of Mallorca alone at night. I was at the point where I didn’t realize how drunk I was, and thought that I was completely in control over everything.

Probably half an hour went by and I still had not arrived to my hotel. I started walking up to people, stating that I was drunk, and asking them to call  a taxi for me. Finally, someone helped me out and directed me to where all the cabs were. Luckily, I had the name of the hotel written down so I could tell the driver where I was going.

We got to the hotel, I got out of the cab, walked up the steps, and stated that I had  a reservation. Oops, I accidentally mistook the ice cream stand that was next to the hotel for the reception!

The worker kindly pointed me to the direction of the hotel, and I finally checked in.

Needless to say, I ended up spending the next day of my “mini-vaycay” in the hotel room, terribly sick. Definitely one of those “I’m never drinking again” moments. Honestly, I am just happy that nothing horrible happened to me while I was roaming around alone and intoxicated. This is absolutely the dumbest mistake I’ve made traveling, and I would never advise anyone to make the same mistake.

Remember folks, Google Maps doesn’t work if you’re obliterated.

by Kerry @ thepetitewanderer

cocktail mallorca

The marriage counselor – drunk in the Maldives

Each time we remember our vacation to the Maldives, the first thing that comes to our minds is one particular embarrassing evening that we spent after getting drunk. While writing this down, our faces have already turned a shade of pink thinking of that crazy night and our most hilarious drunk moment till date.

We were holidaying at one of the idyllic islands of the Maldives and were staying in a gorgeous over water villa. The villa had a lovely sit out area from which a ladder led downwards, straight into the sea.

On one of the days, after watching a glorious sunset, we decided to enjoy the moment and share a couple of drinks. Two hours into the evening, we were on stage 2 of drinking, the most dangerous stage in our opinion (in our funny classification scheme, stage 1 is tipsy, stage 2 is can-drink-more-but-can’t-think-or-walk-straight and the final one, stage 3 is I-need-to-puke).

Typically, after stage 1, you are as good as good as you were before drinking. After stage 3, you would crash in bed and fall asleep. It is when you’re stuck at stage 2, that all those awkward and embarrassing memorable experiences take place.

So at stage 2, we headed to chit chat over a few more beers in the sit-out area of our over-water villa. While outside, we could hear a couple fighting in the neighboring villa. On purposely trying to overhear their conversation, we understood that they were on their honeymoon and were arguing over silly things. From their language and accent we figured that they were from the same place as us.

Rewinding three months before our Maldives trip, we were on our honeymoon in Greece and were fighting in a very similar fashion on yet other petty issues in our villa balcony.

Suddenly overcome by a sense of déja vu, Pushkaraj asked me to hold his beer bottle and without prior warning, took the ladder down, jumped into the sea and headed to swim over to the couple!

While I was still trying to fathom what was happening, Pushkaraj was in the middle of the sea, swimming with all his clothes intact, on a rescue mission, considering himself the savior of the night. In my alarmed and confused state, I crawled over the edge to see what was going on exactly. I was ready for him to be slapped and insulted for breaching someone’s privacy to this extent. Turns out, he reached their villa, climbed the ladder, walked up to them and befriended the shocked and surprised souls! He introduced himself and requested them not to fight as it’s not worth spoiling your honeymoon for! In his drunken state, he managed to give them half an hour of marital advice and how the first few months of marriage can be difficult and not as ideal and glorified as the world seems to portray. All this, when we ourselves were barely married for four months that time!

While he was chit-chatting with them, I don’t remember when I fell asleep in our villa and woke up the next morning to meet our new friends. As embarrassed as I was, I went to apologize to the amiable couple who in turn thanked Pushkaraj for helping to sort out the misunderstanding between them! For the next three days, the four of us did most of our activities together and laughed over that one crazy night.

We’re still friends by the way. I guess, all’s well that ends well!

by Meghna @ TrailingAbroad (with hubby Pushkaraj)


The Cocktail Guru from S2 Beach Shack – drunk in Goa, India

Meet Ram -The cocktail guru of Goa, India. During our stay in Goa we stayed at a beach shack which came with a very unique bartender called Ram. Whenever we saw him we weren’t sure if we should run, hide or just drink. Every time he saw us on the beach we had to have one of his “famous cocktails” which made us swing well into most nights! I don’t even think he remembered what he put in them half the time but they came in all forms, tastes and sizes… it was such fun!

The one night it went one step further, he made a giant stiff cocktail with a giant hollow watermelon on top. Ram said that if we finished it one of us had to wear the top garnish as a hat. Keeping up with tradition, I was appointed the duty by my friends and a hour later I had this water melon cucumber hat on my head. We had so many laughs and left with good memories.

by Liza and Lisa @ Souldrifters


What is YOUR greatest memory from a drunken night out in a foreign country?

Share your story in the comment section below.