The Chronicles of Athens, Part IV – Hostels
Planning is a good thing, I’ve found, as it prevents problems like not having a hostel to stay at in some strange city in some strange country.
I got to Athens super late on the day, which just meant that I ended up getting to the hostel around 12/1AM instead of my prescribed 10ish. But only because I missed the train by a minute and the next one from the airport didn’t go for another half hour. I hate airport transportation…
It also resulted in my parents calling the hostel three times before I even arrived and once more when I was at the front desk checking in…they laughed at me. -_-
The hostel was okay – I stayed in a 12 girl dorm, but since I got in so late everyone else was sleeping already. The only thing I remember is some girl asking me if I wasKorean (she was) and then rolling over and going back to sleep.
First thing I do when I get to a hostel is to always look for the sockets. Doesn’t even matter if there’s only one, that just means that’s where my bed’s gonna be. I can’t imagine not sleeping next to a wall socket – how will I go online? How will I charge my phone? How will I use my iPod tomorrow, my camera?? I’ve come to learn, however, that this obsession with charging things is a relatively Justina-y finding, and that most girls I travel with don’t share this interest of mine.
That’s fine, more sockets for me!
But the problem was that I got to the first hostel super late and everything was dark, which made finding my way into the room a hazard, not to even mention looking for a wall socket. I ended up unplugging the air conditioner from a top bunk so I could charge my stuffs. Don’t worry, it was the middle of May and freeeeeezzzing still.
I did go to the rooftop bar (one of the reasons I chose this hostel in the first place – plus the fact that it was pparently rated one of the best hostels in Athens. Not true. Just a lot of drinking a relatively cute guys manning the front desk. Ripoff.) the next afternoon. It was underwhelming, as you can see here.
Boo.
The second hostel was surprisingly nice, considering that I had to go up some creepy elevator with moving doors (I’ll have a video up later) and hardly any electricity in the hallways to get to it. I was the only one in the room and for a while the only one in the whole place to begin with. The owner of the place was from New York somewhere, if I remember correctly, and he asked me to dinner, which of course I politely declined.
Come on, even I’m not that stupid.
I left at four oclock in the morning on the third day though, walking up the street full of truckers and other nightcrawlers. A little creepy, but I had my trusty red wailer to keep me safe. Allen didn’t seem to be as comforted by it as I was, but no matter, not like we used it anyway.
So there. :)
half a yearope 
No trackbacks yet.