The Colmar youth hostel is a bland, dormitory style facility on the outskirts of town. Nonetheless, it was a welcome sight after a day of biking and a brief late afternoon shower. We asked the manager, a man in his early 60's, if he spoke English, and he replied "a little bit." Maybe not fluently but well enough to transact business. Like most Alsatians he also spoke both French and German. We had reserved two rooms some weeks in advance. Since we were staying two nights in Colmar we requested an extra room to afford everyone a bit more privacy. To our surprise he protested, saying our reservation was for two rooms. We countered politely by noting that the hostel seemed to be pretty much empty and if a room were available we would like it. Begrudgingly he offered another key.

When we discovered that one of our beds was broken, we returned to the office for another room. This time he was completely uncooperative. To make things worse, he had now conveniently forgotten how to speak English. We spoke to him in German but he would only respond in French. We tried some of our very limited French and he threw up his hands and walked away from the reception window. At this point we began discussing our options very loudly in front of the office. "Mr Happy," as we now referred to him, interrupted our discussion with the news that we could have another room but there was no key. We took the room. Later in the evening when "Mr Happy's" shift ended we asked the new receptionist for a room key. Voila, he took one out of the key cabinet.

The next evening when we returned to the hostel after a day of sightseeing in Colmar, we found the windows in one of our rooms to be closed and locked. It was a very hot day. It then occurred to us that "Mr. Happy" gets a perverse pleasure in antagonizing the guests. When the new receptionist arrived in the evening we had him unlock the windows.

Coincidentally, we found a story on the internet written by a group of Australian cyclists who stayed at the same hostel in 1997. They included this passage about the Colmar hostel; "The manager of the hostel wasn't particularly jolly, and claimed he couldn't speak English, though he managed to learn overnight - we heard him on the phone the next morning."

Be forewarned. This is "Mr Happy's" little kingdom and one will need patience and ingenuity to work around him.