Vienna, Austria

Eleven a clock at night, somewhere along the Danube, and I am standing perfectly still. Beside me the rough-hewn steps of the Canal lock are slowly rising, the water retreating from the grimy concrete. As the last step disappears so do my chances of escape and my mood is downcast as I head below decks.

I am a teenage prisoner in a middle-aged jail, this boat with its greasy buffet, 60s disco and dodgy crew. Around me are my fathers high school friends, partying it up on the end night of their reunion, most in various stages of decay. I manage to snaffle the Champaign to help ease my suffering but am unable to prise the boat doors open and escape. Finally I can doge fate no longer and end up doing the twist with my mother, waiting for the moment where the boat slides against the quay and I am running up the gangplank to safety.

Later, sitting in a bar surrounded by frightening sixteen-year-old girls I have time to think about tomorrow. As this is the last night of a three-day reunion my parents will be leaving Vienna, heading to Spain and leaving me stranded in Austria. This leaves me in a situation, the regal city of Vienna being extremely expensive. The plan is simple and one designed by Dad and myself: Go to Eastern Europe come back by Friday.

Before I can plan anything detailed my night spins out of control. Though a series of strange events I find myself in a strip club where Viennese hen partiers try and steal my underwear tags. From there I end up in a house, sipping plum vodka with some Latvians while a bearded Italian backpacker dances around in his underwear. Escaping from the suburbs I am waylaid by spiteful Croatian bus drivers and collapse in my bed (designed for Vietnamese boat people it would seem from its diminutive size) at four with no plan for the morning.