Monday, August 25, 2014

The Horrible Hostel Guest



Let's pretend I said stuff.

I lucked out so much in regards to my lodging in Brazil - it really paid to be a single female traveling during the World Cup. The vast majority of the time, my "six bed female dorm," ended up only having two bunks, of which 3 to 1 beds were empty. The exception was Salvador.

My hostel in Salvador was much nicer than any of the others. I was paying more, to be sure, but for the level of luxury plus World Cup pricing, it was still pretty reasonable. I could do an entire write up on its adorable themed dorms, sparkling clean bathrooms, helpful desk staff, glam rooftop pool, and sundecks with amazing views.

The only catch? For the first time, in a four-bed dorm, I had three roommates. Two of whom were great! They had the lower bunks. And then there was my neighbor on the other upper bunk...

The first day, she woke everyone at around 5:00 AM with her alarm. It went off for several minutes before she managed to wake up and shut it off. Then she proceeded to shuffle around loudly until 6:00, when I assumed she'd finally managed to gather her things and leave.

But no. This story wouldn't be worth telling if she had.

The following evening, three of us had gone to sleep when Horrible Hostel Guest shuffles back in. She gets into bed quietly enough, but about twenty minutes later, her phone rings.

Does she turn down the volume and quietly check the number, to call back tomorrow? Does she step out into the hallway or go down to the lobby to take the call?

Nope. She proceeds, in extremely raspy Portuguese (she sounded like a 10-pack-a-day smoker or she was coming down with something), to have a long and loud conversation with the person on the other end.

I turn on my tablet, under my blanket, so as not to disturb the bottom-bunk dwellers. I tweet my astonishment at my roommate's lack of manners, and then get caught up on twitter (the #HobbyLobby tag was new and golden), e-mail, and blogs for the following hour. During which Horrible Hostel Guest takes two more calls before huffing at the faint glow of my tablet and falling asleep.



Now, here's the thing... maybe I'm a horrible hostel guest too, for staying on my tablet a good half-hour after her last call. Maybe I'm a terrible person for broadcasting her business to the world. In any case, the next day, my polite roommates left, and it was just me and Horrible.

That evening, I went to bed early, knowing that when she came back, she'd wake me up yet again. This plan was thwarted, however, around 11:30 by a Spanish dude having a loud and prolonged Skype conversation in the hallway right outside my door.

Maybe this was rude of me - it was definitely passive-aggressive. I got out of bed and stood in my doorway, waiting for the dude to turn around and acknowledge my presence. He totally ignored me. I could tell why he was standing where he was - one of the hotel's routers was directly outside the three dorm doors at my end of the hall. Even so, there were routers in the lobby and by the pool, in places where people weren't trying to sleep.

Some Irish guys happened to come out of one of the other dorms and seemed startled to see me there. They'd been laughing, and I think they thought I was there to glare daggers at them. "Is the noise offending your delicate ears?" one of them asked. "Might be," I said coolly. The Irish guys headed out. I got a chair and parked myself in the hallway, staring at the Skypeing Spaniard. He didn't lower his voice or even look at me, but he wrapped up pretty quickly when it became apparent I wasn't going anywhere. Triumphant, I went back to bed.

So maybe I had invoked some awful hostel karma. Because this is what happened next... (For the love of God, start at the bottom.)


 
...

......

So. That happened.

Quite honestly, it was more hilarious than anything else. I'm adult enough to handle someone else getting it on, solo, in the bunk across from me, but apparently not adult enough to refrain from sharing the moment with the entire internet. At least vomit, urine, or multiple people weren't involved, like some hostel horror stories I've heard. For the rest of our time there, Horrible avoided looking me in the eye, leading me to believe that my deduction about her level of sobriety had been accurate. Didn't hear a peep from her the following night.

What do you think - was I wrong to shame my roommate on twitter? Any horrible hostel stories of your own to share?

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