Hostels

I am currently poolside at a hostel in Darwin.  Usually I enjoy staying in hostels over hotels because they have a more sociable atmosphere, and they have all the amenities like laundry, internet, and information.  Although the crowd is generally younger than I am, all ages are welcome and you will find older folks there too.  I have stayed in many around the world and have generally found it a positive experience. I usually get my own room these days instead of staying in the dorm, so I can get some distance from revelers if need be.  I was one of those once.  Like when I was chased up the stairs by a large shoe-wielding woman in Italy after breaking the curfew (I escaped by hiding behind a door), or the time I was stranded on the street outside a hostel in downtown Galway in my underwear after going through a one-way locking door.  

Quality varies by location and circumstances.  Darwin seems to be more of a travelers hub than a destination in itself.  So there are a lot of people here that are on hold during their trip around Australia or to/from Indonesia or Thailand.  Generally these people hang around and work somewhere to save up enough money to get somewhere else.  This creates a situation of "long-termers".  They are people who stay at a hostel because it's a cheap place to live.  It really changes the character of a place because they all know each other and it's an us vs. them atmosphere.  Some of them aren't particularly motivated to do anything about their situation, so they sit around and grumble.  

A lizard is crawling on my shoe.  Hopefully it eats some mosquitoes.

So I guess I'm saying that the hostel situation in Darwin is poor.  When I arrived, I headed for a place recommended by Lonely Planet (forgetting the rule that the guidebook is not the end-all).  Reception was closed so I wandered about and asked some people smoking and drinking if they knew anyone who worked there.  It turns out that one of them was the receptionist, who was annoyed that I interrupted her, and said she'd be there when she was ready.  Shortly she came back to the office and quoted me the rate.  It was hot and I was tired and I paid for the room.  It had air-conditioning and that was enough.  As I sat down on the bed, the level of filth sunk in.  Years of ground-in dirt and the old and thin mattress matched the tired peeling paint of the cinderblock walls and moldy air-conditioner.  I walked downstairs into the common area and found a crowd of listless bodies surrounded by empty bottles and cans staring emptily into a television set tuned to an infomercial.  The common bathrooms were vile and homeless men were outside picking up cigarette butts to smoke.  All for $75/night.

After fuming about my poor decision, I walked down the road to find somewhere else to stay, hoping that I could get my money back from the first establishment.  I passed a place that seemed leafy and pleasant, and I figured I'd go in and have a look.  Anything was better than the other place.  The room seemed OK, so I returned to the first place, successfully got my money back after inventing a sob story, and left with my bag.  Walking across town to the other establishment, my feet began to bleed because the plastic thongs I bought chewed through the webbing of my toes.  I checked in, and sat down on the bed.  Relaxing, I decided to check out Tripadvisor out of curiousity to see if the second place had been reviewed.  

To my dismay, every review was about the serious bedbug problem at this place.  I immediately jumped off the bed and pulled my bag off the floor.  I managed to hang all my things off the curtain rods and stood there for a bit.  I was bitten by some bedbugs in Fiji and it is awful.  The burning itch is intolerable.  Then you have anxiety for a week whether they have traveled with you in your things and are infecting things wherever you go.  I walked back to the office and kindly asked the receptionist if she knew anything about this problem.  She assured me, "I can tell you that there have never been any bedbugs in your room."  I said that there was no way I could sleep with the thought of it, and that I had to leave.  She grudgingly gave my money back, and as I left with my bag, a shirtless man ran through the courtyard with one eye swollen shut, angrily screaming something.  It was a good time to go.

Skin and blood shedding from my feet, I made it to the third place, where I am currently staying.  It's actually well-run and clean, and I am relieved.  There are still some of the long-term folks but a smaller proportion.

Here is the current joint.

Tomorrow I fly back to New Zealand, and my mom will arrive at the end of the week. We are going to see the sights and then fly back together to the USA.  I will be happy to see my cat.  I wanted to import him to New Zealand but they have a one-month quarantine for pets.  You can go visit one hour a week or something.  Maybe I could have smuggled a file to him in a can of tuna.