One of the fundamental characteristics of carrying on with this coming-of-age backpacking Europe experience is the hostel staying. My first night in London was my first such experience and thanks to scrupulous research a few days prior to my departure, I found myself at a very cool spot, Phoenix Hostel in the Marylebone district. After stepping off the tube from the airport, I navigated my way from the Edgware Road station with the enormous tortoise shell of a backpack following behind, through several side streets to an inconspicuous corner building. A flag hung above the door displaying a phoenix and I was at my destination. I was given directions to my room, a small space with two bunk beds…triple bunk style…and I took the bottom.

When I wasn’t out getting lost in London, I spent my time in the lounge. In the hazy room with couches, tables, a TV, a bookshelf, and a bar, young hostel-stayers were often spread about on computers, eating, chatting in a variety of languages, while music played- from Interpol and Sigur Ros to Electric Light Orchestra and Dido. I spent my first of two nights here posted up at the pub bar with a Strongbow, talking with Jonathan-the French bartender, Chad-the New Orleans backpacker finishing his own journey, Jack, Jason, and Kodey-the soccer players moving to America soon, and others. The lights stayed dim and the mood stayed cool.

Setting out on this journey, I had the plans to move with the wind, little planning involved, if any. I quickly learned, though, that this course of action has its downsides. My next night was spent at a hostel in Dover that I booked the day before and, for those of you who know my OCD tendencies, tested my limits. I am happy to report that I can put up with more than I might have thought and keep a positive attitude all the while. Staying at this sub-par hostel (though it had wonderful character), however, linked me up with a Brazilian girl, Renata, who became a wonderful friend for the next two days and led me to the couch (bunk bed actually) on which I surfed the following night, which would be my first ever couchsurfing experience…and a wonderful one, I must say, that included a brief, but beautiful, personal stand-up base, living room concert, enjoyable conversation, and possibly the best sleep I’ve had yet.

Renata, of Brazil, and Jean Francois, of France, discuss tactics during a game of pool at Dover Backpacker’s Hostel in Dover, England.

Dover Backpacker’s Hostel’s claim to fame is having hosted celebrities including the Beatles and Hugh Grant. Framed pictures of celebrities decorate the oldest pub in town.

Through hopping from hostel to hostel to couch to hostel, I’m learning that it is the experience that matters, the people you meet, the frame of mind you have, and not necessarily the environment that yields to worthwhile moments and the best memories.

A scene from my first couchsurfing experience. A night spent in Kim and Clive’s Dover home.

A scene from my first couchsurfing experience. A night spent in Kim and Clive’s Dover home.

Scenes from my first couchsurfing experience. A night spent in Kim and Clive’s Dover home.

Cheers,

Mallory