Hostile Hostel

Peru had been at the top of my never-ending bucket-list for years. I had a mini meltdown in the fall of 2015 and seriously considered moving there without ever having seen it. So when I arrived in January two years later, I was excited to watch the pink stamp hit my passport and enter a world that I had fallen in love with without even knowing it.

I landed in Lima and headed out to my hostel. I arrived around 5PM, which is a time when most people are out and about exploring. There were four bunkbeds, with only one sole dude sitting in one directly across from mine typing away at his laptop. I usually try to break the ice and introduce myself since, you know, we are all sleeping in the same room, but this guy seemed extra focused and I didn’t want to interrupt whatever it was he could be working on. I started to unpack my clothes and get situated, when mystery man let out a boisterous laugh (a cackle is probably the best way to describe it).

“You know…when I was in China for a year…” was all he needed to say before my eyes started to roll so far back they could see my brain. This was my issue with hostels; everyone is in competition. I could start a conversation by saying “I’m in Thailand for two weeks” and I would almost always get someone to say “Two weeks? That’s it? What’s the point?” I don’t know, some of us have jobs still and do traveling as a hobby, versus the dream of a full-time lifestyle. Two weeks IS a lifetime to some people, there’s no need to knock others because they aren’t privileged enough to take seventeen months off to do an around-the-world exploration (though, kudos to those who can and do).

We chatted for a moment and he started immediately advising me on where all of the best places to go were. “If you take a left out the door and an immediate right, and you walk to the cliff, you’ll see….” I had literally just landed in Lima and hardly knew what neighborhood I was in. I took it all with a grain of salt and smiled and said thank you.

I headed out (I did NOT take a left and an immediate right and head toward the cliff) and found a cute little cafe that offered raw and vegan foods. I was surprised; people think of other countries, especially ones in South America, as being poor, uncivilized, unaware, etc.; so this may sound naive but I was indeed shocked to see a “trendy” cafe in the middle of Peru (granted I was in Lima). I walked around Miraflores and watched the sunset, and saw a giant cross on the other side of the coast and wondered what it was (I never did find out).

I continued to walk around that night to find some causa relleno de pollo and a much-needed Cusqueña. I stumbled upon a restaurant that was clearly touristy, but I had given in and settled to eat my first Peruvian meal and drink a beer.

I walked back to the hostel in hopes to get a good night’s sleep, only to find that when I got back, a new member to the room had arrived. He was lying in the middle of the floor talking about how we are all just a bunch of stars in the sky of life, and I thought “I’ll have what he’s having.”

I wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable in the hostel, it’s always fun and interesting to speak to different people and find out what each others’s journeys are, however, sometimes having a good night of sleep is appreciated also.

PS: The next morning this awesome badass chick from San Diego arrived; blonde wavy hair, covered in tattoos, certified surf instructor; she had worked in finance for ten years before calling it a day and traveling the world. She had just arrived to Colombia via sailboat from Nicaragua and was in Lima to meet some friends. Hostels are inspirational, at the very least.