Of this Questionable Hostel!
No, Kyle and I are not speaking right now. But in hopes he will see that I was right, here are all the reasons why we should have just stayed at The Marriott instead of living out our own version of the movie, Hostel.
While I was open to the idea of communal living, I draw the line at actually having to converse with these people. If I have to talk to Summer about her feeling liberated as a digital nomad one more time, I will scream.
Where the Hell Do I Get My Coffee?
When Kyle said our hostel was in a trendy new neighborhood, I dreamt of quaint cafes and window shopping. Apparently “trendy” meant within walking distance of a gas station and a McDonald’s.
I’m a girl that loves a drink, but waking up to some guitarist named Jeff playing an acoustic version of “Party in the USA” on the floor of our room while my intoxicated roommates sang along was too far.
Every night we would hear spooky moaning and thumping next door. Sometimes things would fall off the walls! I tried confronting the ghost and burning sage, but it continued every night.
Nightly Drum Circles
Kyle informed me there would be nightly gatherings to socialize with other travelers. What Kyle didn’t say is that gatherings included lots of stoned twenty-somethings banging on drums and dancing for hours. This was not the Parisian experience I had wished for. At least I got to see the Eiffel Tower.