It’s been awhile since I stayed in a hostel, I think my last time was in the fall of 2000 on my trip through New Zealand and Australia. I’ve come to a realization, that staying at a hostel is sort of like a big sleep-over at a friend’s house except every bunk bed speaks a different language.
I love the diversity of people at a hostel. It’s always interesting to learn where a person is from, where they have traveled to and where they are going. It usually ends with me added another must-see place to my already long list.
Yesterday I met an interesting Polish girl while sitting in lounge and sipping a thick espresso. While in Poland she worked for a company which created packages for business conferences and is now looking for similar work in London. And another interesting girl from Belgium, who has been on temporary work leave since November. She’s been running a rickshaw around Soho area of London, said she really enjoys the exercise except when she has to pull really fat people.
Staying at a hostel can also have some less enjoyable moments. For example, last night when the girl in the bunk above us decided it was a good idea to eat very loud potato chips at 3:51am! At first I thought I was having a bad case of the nightmare munchies, but after 40 minutes of her eating crisps, I realized it was not a dream at all. Regardless to say, April and I were both very tired this morning…