Hostels are crazy experiences. You never know who you are going to meet, and what the living conditions are going to be like. In Budapest, we stayed at this hostel in the middle of an island on the Danube between Buda and Pest. The island was surrounded by a park (with a perfect 5K running path) and it was covered with gardens; a sort of oasis from the city itself. The room, of course, was not nearly as luxurious, but the setting and the people made the hostel a blast.
We met a lot of cool people from around the world. Michael and Kevin (who we repeatedly called K-Fed) were two Scots that enjoyed drinking and playing some random Scottish card game. Michael was the more sociable of the two, and he went with us to the spa and walked around the city. K-fed would sleep all day, but would be hanging out at the patio during the night. It was interesting to talk to the two and to comprehend differences and similarities between our two cultures.
We also met two students from the States. Their names were Robby (with a y) and Jori (with an I). They were both from Harvard; Jori was legit, but Robbie oozed Harvard, like a newly formed pus-filled scab prodded by a curious four-year old pondering what may lie underneath the red abrasion and swollen membrane. Alright, it wasn’t that bad, but he was a sailor. Sailor=pretentious. They met up with us here in Prague, and we had to deal with them for some four days. We put up with their antics, but we are glad they are now on the way to Greece. (If you’re reading this Harvards, we still love you)
Of course, no hostel is complete without your share of crazies. There were some creepies that creeped around, but not as much as our little Chris Donahoe, as well as some anti-social kids. But we survived.
It was amazing how much we enjoyed the hostel. I thought that we would just sleep there, but the dynamic that was created with all of these fellow travelers really made our stay worthwhile (and we had just as much fun chatting on the porch with randoms as touring the city).