I really enjoyed staying in Cat’s Hostel. It was my first real youth hostel and it was nice to be surrounded by other travelers my age backpacking Europe as well. Fiona, Milly and I got breakfast downstairs where we’d been drinking liters of beer only hours before. These croissants weren’t as good as the croissants…
“Hostel finito, hostel finito!” I opened my eyes to see a short stocky spanish woman kicking me out of my hostel room at 9am. What she was saying exactly, or how she had gotten into my room, I wasn’t sure of, but I could tell from her yelling and body language I was supposed to…
Madrid’s Harlem is far less seedy during the day. Nevertheless, I wasn’t staying. I packed my stuff up, well it was never unpacked, I just picked it up and left. I found a nice place in Puerta Del Sol where a protest was going on and dropped my bags off. My first real stop of…
Kiana and I didn’t really sleep at all. We got back to the hostel around 6am and Kiana left around 8:30am to catch her flight back to Barcelona. I slept in til 11 when I had to check out then read on the beach for a bit before catching the bus to the airport. After all the…
Waking up in the Che Guevara suite, last night’s hijinks were but a distant memory, with only a faint reminder in the form of a minor headache. Kiana and I had the free breakfast at the hostel, croissant, orange juice, and coffee. It wasn’t much, but the croissant was one of the best I’ve ever…
What a difference a good night of sleep makes. I felt like a new man waking up in Ibiza. Kiana and I grabbed a quick breakfast down on the beach and moved our bags over to the hostel across the street. The hostel was the most hippyesque place I have ever stayed, to give an…