The afternoon beer cult says it all; at 5:30pm everybody stops in the middle of what they have been doing to gather around the bar. This one new band that I don’t know about yet is coming out of the speakers and the bartender is swinging behind the bar trying to remember everybody’s first name. ‘Cheapest beer in town and no Loveing foam’, he yells out loud, and he’s right.

The atmosphere is set. More and more people gather around the bar and they are from all over the world, so the tough travel stories are being exchanged.

At around 7pm dinner is served at the big table on which everybody is welcome to join in. After dinner there is always a group that goes to the beach to play around and smoke a spliff.

At the hostel, the volume goes up and fresh sounds fill up the bar. A small quote from the guest book: ‘Cool underground sounds and open minds, I never made friends so easy as in the flying Pig, cause you can be yourself no matter who you are’.

The rest of the night it is covered in a hazy cloud of drunkenness, but obviously I made it to bed cause that’s were I found myself with my clothes still on and a banging headache. Shit I missed breakfast again!!