One tequila, two tequila, ten tequila ... floor!

Heading into Cluj Napoca I already had an inkling that it was going to be a town to remember. A university town, this place has one of the largest student populations in Eastern Europe. I think we all know what that means ... this town really knows how to throw a party.

After running into the Aussie boys again at the hostel ... I learnt that there was a beer festival on in town. I love a good beer festival, as does any traveller ... an event that promises cheap beer and lots of it.

Heading to the beer festival we were a little concerned when we seemed to be the only people heading towards the lights and sounds, everyone else -- including a few drunk people here and there, was heading towards the city. Fantastic ... a party town that shuts down before midnight!

Thankfully the cheap beer was still flowing when we hit the tents ... downing a few just to relax into the evening. The boys soon battled the Romanians to get a sausage on a plate, literally what it was.

It was in the line that we met some Romanian university students who insisted that we went out drinking with them -- of course, we were only to happy to oblige!

Ema and Silvio took us to a pub not far from the festival, where we drank like camels preparing to store litres of liquid for a long, hot dry spell in the desert. The beer continued to flow, and the tequila also reared its ugly head.

It was during one of conversations that Silvio asked me if he could talk to me about something he had been thinking about for a while. Was I really ready to hear this?

"Is it true that the crocodile man is really dead?"

Yes that is right, we have finally got our wish --- Steve Irwin has been killed off. Well according to the Romanian press he has. Silvio said that Romanians believe him to be dead for a few months now after Romanian papers printed an article about how he was killed.

Kym and I laughed like crazy ... if only it were true! We let Silvio down easy and reassured him that Steve was alive and literally kicking, wrestling some form of animal somewhere in the world.

The night went on ...

We somehow made it in a taxi back to the hostel, after paying like 3 dollars each towards the tab for out night of frolicking. Hilarious .. that would not even get me a mineral water back home as the designated driver for an evening on the town!

Next morning was not feeling too good ... and looked at my arm covered in email addresses written in pen. Nursing a killer headache! The results of the night were in ..

* People unaware of how they made it home -- 2 (no I am not in that tally -- I remember clearly paying a dollar for the cab)
* Email addresses secured -- 5 (including 3 Romanians!)
* Unexplained bruises - 3 (although I think I have since worked out 2 of them)
* Pukers -- 1 (some young American guy hurling when we got back, but he wasn't out with us)

Would I do it again?? Absolutely!!!

Got over my hangover quickly ... said goodbye to the boys who were off further north ... took a run around the city and then tried to book a seat to Budapest. Alas I had to wait another night .. and get a minibus the next day. But you get that!

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