Hostel Environment...Genesis

London to Paris

2013-07-03T13:34:00.000-07:00

I hadn’t seen the white cliffs of Dover until the ferry was halfway to France and from that distance the formation was still quite impressive. It seemed as if the chalk cliffs were the only spit of land separating the blue of the sky from the blue of the sea. And I turned towards Calais and I could see the Tricolore fluttering in the breeze. Loneliness quickly overcame the elation I had felt at the sight of the English and French coastlines. Thoughts of Ophelia had been for the most part suppressed, but at that moment I had wished she was with me to witness this sight. She may have crossed the channel already, via the Chunnel I’m sure. She wouldn’t take a bus, it is so pedestrian. I hope she is being more frugal than that, otherwise she’ll have to head home before we planned to. Then again, she’ll probably have her dad dump some money into her account and he’ll do it willingly as long as it keeps us apart. Well enough about that bullshit. I don’t care. This is my chance to contemplate my life and choices. Ophelia is just as free to do the same and I will not hinder this adventure with thoughts of what she might be doing. Good luck with that.
The bus arrived in Paris roundabout eleven p.m. Made it to Young and Happy Hostel just before midnight. It is located in the Latin Quarter in the 5^th arrondissement. The hostel is on rue Mouffetard which led to Rome in the days of the empire. The Pantheon, Notre Dame, the Botanical Gardens and Luxembourg Garden are all just ten minutes away by foot. The hostel is decent. The staff is great. The price for two nights in the mixed, ten bed dorm is steep…sixty-six bucks American. Didn’t hang too long the first night. Went to a bar. Surprisingly, it was difficult finding one, after all this is a student neighborhood. It was an Irish pub, small and crowded. Had a few pints of Guinness. Staggered back to the hostel and crashed almost immediately. Woke about ten in the morning still feeling buzzed from the beer and jetlag. Haven’t experienced much these last few days, but I will try to recap some of the more interesting things. To be continued…

The Experiment Begins

2013-06-28T10:19:00.001-07:00

Ophelia and I arrived in London a couple of days ago and I had hoped that the documentation of this experiment would be posted to this blog in “real” time, but this is not twitter where I must be brief and poignant in 140 characters or less. I can’t share all that I would like in regards to my accommodations, the locale, history, art, literature, fellow hostellers and of course the emotional ups and downs that I will undoubtedly encounter in one sentence increments. I must share everything that I feel, see, touch, taste and think no matter how embarrassing, boring, hurtful or politically incorrect it might be and it cannot be done or summed up in brief and therefore I will try to post the chronicles of this experiment as expeditiously as possible.

      As I said before, Ophelia and I arrived in London two days ago around three-thirty in the afternoon. We parted ways at the St. Paul’s tube station in the City of London. It was a quick farewell, just a peck on the lips and a hug. I had imagined a more emotional scene that what it actually was and I was really relieved that it was quick. I was just too tired and sore to exert any more energy into the matter as I am sure Ophelia was too. There was a slight twinge of anxiety in the center of my chest though as I watched the train depart the station with Ophelia still aboard; her destination unbeknownst to me. But all anxiety melted away the moment I reached the surface of the city. It had been nearly sixteen hours since I stood outdoors and just as long without a smoke. It was grand breathing-in the fresh English air before inhaling the toxic fumes from a long anticipated puff of a Camel cigarette. I got a nice head rush from it and I stood there for a bit appreciating the head change and the beautiful architecture of St. Paul’s cathedral.
      In the shadow of the grand cathedral stands London St. Paul’s Hostel, a former school for the choir boys of the cathedral. I arrived there shortly before five p.m. and booked a bed in a four-bunk, male only dorm for $32 bucks American per night. Way more than I wanted to pay so I only booked it for two nights. I had no idea where I would go after that, but two nights at that price was all I was willing to pay. The hostel does have many amenities, but no communal kitchen and the restaurant on the premises, I read, serves crappy food for five pounds. I don’t want to pay that much for English food. Who does? The hostel is very clean and the staff is fantastic, but the majority of guests were families and elderly folks which changed the vibe that I am accustomed to at other hostels. Suffice it to say, I didn’t hang out much at the hostel. I was beat beyond belief, but couldn’t really sleep. I took a nice crap and shower before heading out to a bar with my Norwegian bunkmate.
      We hit a trendy bar filled with young Londoners who were consumed in some boring-ass soccer game or rather, football match. He left after a pint, but I stuck around for another as there was a gaggle of young ladies about. They showed no interest in me whatsoever. No matter, their asses will only grow exponentially which tends to happen to English women. I split after the second pint and headed back to the hostel for some sleep. I was so out of it that the bells of St. Paul’s cathedral, which toll every fifteen minutes, couldn’t stir me from my slumber.
      The first full day in London was spent in dreamland. I woke at about five in the afternoon quite hungry. The restaurant at the hostel was as far as I wanted to go in my state. The food was mediocre at best. Not worth the eight bucks American, but it did the job. After another shower I dressed and headed out in search of a pub. Found a place around the corner from the hostel. Nice place and situated on the corner of the street at the end of a building which curves around like a crescent. The pub was bustling with men in suits. The only female in the joint was the barmaid. Beautiful Irish gal named Kelly or Kellie. I believe she was happy to talk to someone who wasn’t wearing a white- collared shirt and nice pants. We chatted all evening, that is, when she wasn’t pouring pints for the businessmen. We talked about travel and work and all the other things commoners tend to talk about. She is leaving for Ireland for “holiday” in a few days. She was born in Ireland, but now works in London and she is just taking a small vacation from bartending. I decided there and then to leave for Paris in the morning. London is just too expensive and the dollar isn’t worth crap. I’ll be sure to stop back by on my return to London for the trip home. I would very much like to see Kelly one last time before heading back to California.
      I woke early and headed to the bus depot. I opted for the bus as the price for a one-way ticket to Paris via the train is $160. The bus ticket was only $49 including the ferry trip across the channel. It was a nine hour bus and ferry ride, but it was great seeing the English and French countryside. What really sucked was sitting next to a very stinky Pakistani guy for the whole bus ride. A chick with a backpack had boarded after me and I had hoped she would sit next to me, but she chose a seat on the opposite side and this smelly fellow took the seat next to me. Just my luck.

First Green Tortoise Hostel Adventure

2012-03-22T10:33:00.000-07:00

     My first night at the hostel was quite enjoyable. I hung-out in the smoking parlor most of the night as it was livelier than the common area where most of the people sat and read or watched the television. I met quite a few people most of whom were European. I enjoyed their accents and at that moment I knew that I wanted to travel abroad. The females were breathtaking and I enjoyed watching them roll their own cigarettes. Most of these Europeans were traveling for months at a time and I wondered how one could do that. I tried to gather as much information about the details of their trips and the process by which they manage to travel for so long. I decided that maybe I too could do the same one day.     I went to bed quite late that night. I awoke at one point as the room was uncomfortably hot and humid. I looked around the room and saw that there were two females sleeping in the bunk across from mine clad only in their panties. Both were lying on their stomachs and the sight of their bare backs and firm butts gave me a nice boner. I wanted to jerk it right then and there, but I caught sight of something that made me go limp. I looked around to make sure no one was watching me as I contemplated performing this sinful deed when a pasty white ass caught my attention. In the bunk perpendicular from mine lay a naked male, but only his ass poked-out from the sheet that covered the rest of his body. The moonlight seemed to reflect its brightness for only me to see. He was an Irish fellow who I met on the bus and is ass was the only thing I pictured as I fell asleep.
     I awoke late that morning and after a lukewarm shower I went to the kitchen for a cup of complimentary coffee and then took a seat on the balcony for a smoke. All of my bunkmates had already gone somewhere by the time I had awaken and I hadn’t seen anyone I met in the smoking parlor the night before, so I sat by myself and wondered what I was going to do with the rest of the day. I knew I needed something greasy for this hang-over so I hit the street in search of food. I found a diner down the road and had a cheap, but wonderful breakfast/lunch. I took a walk after my meal to get a feel of the city. The Washington Mutual Tower stood before me and I quickly took a liking to it. It is nicknamed “The Spark Plug,” but I have no idea why. It doesn’t look like that at all. I strolled along and found the people to be very nice. I felt comfortable in Seattle. It is a very eco-friendly and artsy place. I came upon the Rainier Tower which has a huge inverted pyramid as its base. It stretched skyward somehow. I didn’t like this building as it looked like a structure straight out of Brave New World.
     I also noticed the coffee shops. So many coffee shops and stands everywhere. I got my first ever Starbucks coffee and it was good. I headed back to the hostel with my coffee where I took a seat on the balcony and had another smoke. I met some newcomers and we chatted a bit before deciding on having a buffet dinner at the Indian restaurant across the street. I had never eaten Indian food as I never really wanted to, but it was actually quite good. It was only five bucks and all-you-could-eat. I was very happy and grateful to have had that experience. After dinner we headed back to the hostel where the staff had a sign-up sheet for a pub and art walk scheduled for later that evening. Only ten bucks and that would get one into the museums and galleries along the walk. I was up for that, especially since we would be stopping at the pubs as well. When it was time to go, there were about twenty people ready for some booze and art.
     Our first stop was a pub near the Seattle Art Museum or SAM where we shared some pitchers of beer. By the time we made it to SAM I was quite buzzed. The only work of art that I remember was Sea Change by Jackson Pollock. I remember standing before it for quite some time. We weren’t there for very long as everyone just wanted to go to another bar. We made our way down the street and found a cool bar and ordered a few more pitchers. Somehow I met a French gal that was a part of the group. We started to talk about literature and that grew into a romance that I had never anticipated. Sophie was her name and she had been studying literature in Iowa of all places and teaching French at the university as well. She was now traveling the U.S. for the summer. I love literature and it was my best subject in high school so we had quite a bit to talk about. I was just talking out of my ass when she asked me about Hemingway, her favorite author. I was buzzed and I said he was over-rated, but that seemed to attract her to me even more. I was unemployed and only good for manual labor with no real passion for anything, but she seemed to have seen something in me or she was just drunk.
     We hung-out in the smoking parlor at the hostel after the pub slash art walk. She set my heart and mind afire. We talked about art and literature and travel and our dreams. I felt that I could be more than just blue-collar. I could attend college and set my sights higher than I ever thought I could. We ended up making out with a little dry humping in between and then we held one another until the sun came up. While people were waking up and getting ready for a new day, we kissed goodnight and went to our respective rooms for some much needed sleep. Both of us slept until mid-afternoon and then met up again for lunch/dinner. I was quite taken with her and I was really happy for the first time in a long time.

Hippy Bus, Cow Creek and the Green Tortoise Hostel

2012-03-15T09:20:00.000-07:00

     I awoke still shivering as the bus pulled into the woods. The tour company owns some land near a creek where fellow adventurers could come and relax and enjoy the great outdoors. We stopped here for a couple of hours for a much needed breakfast. It was of course the typical vegetarian, hippy type fare: blueberry pancakes, fruit salad and granola. It was very communal where folks were encouraged to get involved in the preparation and serving and the clean-up of the whole affair. It was quite fun, but also a little annoying as mostly everyone was vegetarian and/or a hippy. I have nothing against Vegans or hippies really, but they do tend to be a bit arrogant about their lifestyle and sometimes preachy; similar to religious groups or cults. I believe I was just being a tad pissy as I hadn’t slept much and a hearty breakfast was what I really wanted. I mean c’mon, meat is good! Granola is no substitute nor is tofu bacon.      After breakfast some of us headed down to the creek where we could strip and take a dip in the frigid water. I wasn’t sure at first as I had never skinny-dipped with strangers looking on. I felt scummy from being on that bus, so I stripped and jumped in. It was freezing and I was relieved that none of the females were able to see what was left of my manhood as it had retreated into my body somehow in search of warmth. It felt wonderful washing away all the hippy grime though. Afterwards I went into the sauna on the bank of the creek where several more nude travelers sat absorbing the heat. It was very thrilling. I couldn’t help looking at the females like a child eyeing candied apples at the fair. I struggled not to give away my excitement as my manhood decided to make an appearance with utmost vigor.
     I finished my sauna session and dressed and went up to the campground completely renewed. I took a seat at the blazing fire pit with a cup of tea. A joint was being passed around and I partook as I am not averse to its soothing affects. Everyone chatted away about their lives and the circumstances that brought them to the woods of Oregon. I wasn’t sure if anyone felt as I had. I felt lost and out of place. Everyone else seemed to have a good sense of who they were and their purpose in life. I suppose that is why I travel when I can as I am still searching for those answers. We boarded the bus and headed north to Seattle. I had no clue as to what was next, but I did know that I wanted to take this trip again.
     The last leg of the drive was fun, although I still had a little anxiety as this would be my first time staying in a hostel and really my first time in a new city all alone. We played cards and chatted as the bus rolled into the city. It was late afternoon when the bus dropped us off at the hostel. A few of us scampered up to the second floor where we checked-in and got our room assignments. I opted for the six-bunk, co-ed dorm as I have no problem with female bunkmates. I found my room which was empty of anyone, but obviously there were signs that people were residing there. I threw my pack on an empty bottom bunk and then checked it for comfort. I then left the room to take a look around to get my bearings. The hallway was hot and humid. The bathrooms I found to be somewhat clean. I made my way to the common area where there were several people sitting around tables and booths reading or talking or looking over maps and guidebooks. There was a television broadcasting the local news and a few people were making dinner in the communal kitchen. I took a quick inventory of it and found it quite cluttered with everything one would need to make a meal.
     The windows of the kitchen looked out onto a narrow balcony about ten yards long where some folks sat as they drank beer and smoked. The view was not particularly great. It was of a small parking lot with a partial view of 2nd street. Cattycorner from the kitchen and balcony was the smoking parlor. There was a beat-up leather couch, a coffee table and another small table with five or six chairs. A ventilator above a pad-locked fridge hummed quietly as it filtered out the cigarette smoke. It did nothing to eliminate the odor of tar and nicotine, but it was a cozy place where the outcast smoker could enjoy his or her habit.
     After my exploration of the hostel I headed out in search of food. I just grabbed some fast food and wolfed it down. I then headed to the liquor store and bought a six pack of beer. It was quite convenient as it was only about twenty feet from the hostel. I went back to my room, got some fresh clothes and toiletries and headed for the showers. As I walked down the corridor a very cute and wet blonde girl stepped out from one of the bathrooms with only a towel wrapped around her. I watched her as she made her way down the hall and into her room. I decided that I was going to like hosteling.

First Trip on the Green Tortoise

2012-03-14T10:41:00.000-07:00

     My first experience was many moons ago, well before I met Ophelia in Seattle. A hippy friend of mine related a trip he took to Seattle and of the hostel he took shelter in. I had never heard of hosteling and it all sounded so exciting to me. I was unemployed at the time and the thought of pounding the pavement in search of a meaningless job was not my idea of fun. I had some money saved up so I forgot about looking for a shitty job and decided to take the same trip my friend had taken. There was a travel company that had some buses and a couple of hostels that offered folks cheap adventures and lodgings. It was run by some old hippies and as it happened, they had a route from Orange County to Seattle. I booked passage on this trip and departed one Sunday afternoon on a converted ‘70’s era school bus. I really had no idea on what to expect and a part of me struggled with thoughts of whether or not I was doing the right thing. I was quite nervous and unsure.      Many of the passengers were a new generation of hippies sprinkled with an assorted lot of Europeans. Hippies are cool, but I found that I can only take them in small doses. I really felt out of place, but I settled in for the two day ride to the Emerald city. The bus stopped in L.A. and Santa Monica at a couple of hostels to pick-up more travelers, a few of whom were very attractive European gals. At that point I realized that I was going to enjoy this communal trip. The bus continued north and here and there it would stop to pick-up more people until we were packed-in like sardines. As night came, we all jockeyed for a place to sleep. The rear of the bus was actually one large bed that twenty or so people could lay out somewhat comfortably. The tables and seats on each side and center of the bus converted into beds and the luggage racks served as bunks as well. I found a spot on the large bed in the rear and it was quite comfortable despite being sandwiched between complete strangers and the hum of the tires on pavement eventually soothed me to sleep.
     We arrived in San Francisco early the next morning at one of the hostels owned by this adventure company. We had the opportunity to use the showers at the hostel for two bucks, but I did not take advantage of it as I was clean, but some of the other passengers sure as hell needed one. It was my first time in a hostel and I was a bit nervous about it. There were so many hippies there and I felt completely out of place. One could smell the stoneage everywhere and as much as I wanted to spark-up, I decided instead to wander the streets of San Francisco with a group from the bus. We had all day as the bus wouldn’t depart until eight that evening. I was with a group that consisted of three Americans and a gal from Great Britain. We strolled along the streets just going where our feet would take us. I felt free, but a part of me still felt as if I were doing something irresponsible. My mind was so preoccupied with thoughts of what I should be doing (looking for work) that it made it very difficult to concentrate on all the wonderful sights of the city. I promised myself that as soon as I returned home I would immediately find a job; any job just so I could placate that little fucker in my head and then I could enjoy this little freedom.
     That promise had certainly helped in the matter and I was able to open myself up to the beauty of the city as well as to my fellow travelers. Almost immediately the sense of culture shock came over me. It was hard to believe as I am from the same state, but the people were very different from folks back home. Everyone was friendly and helpful and they would take the time to give us directions to the various sites. People back home would never even make eye contact as you passed them on the street. The folks of San Francisco were definitely more affable than those from Orange and L.A. counties.
     We got back to the bus around eight that evening and all the beds were already set up. I hurried to get one of the beds underneath one of the tables at the center of the bus. It was like a little cave with a small curtain that could be drawn for privacy. These were reserved for couples only and the bus driver reminded me of that, but at that moment the English gal stepped aboard and I motioned to her that I had this sought after spot. To my surprise she was fine with sharing this cozy cubby with me. My intentions were not at all sexual as she was a bit plump and homely and I would have needed at least five shots of something potent to find her somewhat attractive. I just didn’t want to sleep in the rear with mostly guys surrounding me.
     I didn’t sleep well at all actually. At first it was my thoughts that kept me up. My heart raced as I pondered the girl’s thoughts and motives. I wondered if she expected me to make a move and I lay there contemplating whether or not to as it had been a long time since I had any sexual encounter with a gal and now there was one lying next to me. Thoughts of sex soon dissipated as the temperature dropped. The horse blanket lined Levi jacket that I had brought was my only protection from the cold. I curled up as best I could in this tight quarter, shivering away most of the night. She was zipped-up completely in her sleeping bag like a cocoon and I wanted to cuddle just for warmth. I managed to sleep some until we arrived somewhere in the woods of Oregon.

Prelude to First Hostel Experience

2012-03-13T08:52:00.000-07:00

The debut of this blog may have been premature. I realize that it is going to be difficult to fill blog posts with interesting accounts of our progress toward our goal of initiating the hostel environment experiment since everything has been done. All has either been sold, given away or stored. The condo is spic and span. The much needed credit cards for the trip have been paid so they can be utilized again. Our packs are half-packed and ready for the rest of the necessities we will need on the trip. And our airline tickets have been purchased which is a miracle; a Christmas gift from Ophelia’s parents. Now we are just waiting until Ophelia is laid-off and the auction of the condo takes place which should occur around the same time. We must also wait for the buyer to offer the incentive check which will help in our endeavor. Cash for keys is what they call it and I hope it comes through before our departure date arrives. The tickets that Ophelia’s parents bought us are open-ended so we can return whenever we like, but we must leave on the date and time specified and I fear that we may be cutting it close. Regardless of that, I am still grateful for their generosity. I have a suspicion that it is just their attempt at facilitating the dissolution of Ophelia and I’s engagement, but I am going to be naïve and believe they did it out of the kindness of their hearts. I’d rather not be cynical or negative at a time when things are finally going our way. I don’t want to jinx it by thinking or feeling pessimistically. It’s a new year and I want to wash away all the negativity from my soul and replenish it with only thoughts and feelings of optimism. I know my new found philosophy will be tested on the morning of the auction, but I will remain steadfast. I may waver a bit when the notice to surrender and vacate the property arrives as it will be final confirmation that we have truly lost our home, but my resolution to be nothing but positive will prevail.
Now I will relate my first journey and hostel experience. If at the end of this tale I find that we are still awaiting departure, I will add journal entries from my past travels in the hope that you remain a follower of my blog. Thank you for your loyalty and patience.

Some Background on Tuttle

2012-03-12T08:59:00.000-07:00

The condo and garage are looking more and more bare as we have sold off quite a bit of our stuff. The more sentimental and personal things have been boxed for storage with friends and the things that we cannot sell will be given to charity. It is Christmas after all. Speaking of Christmas, Ophelia has left for the week to spend the holidays with her family in Montana and as soon as I am done sorting out a few things here, I will be off to a friend’s house. I couldn’t very well spend an entire week with Ophelia’s parents. They dislike me quite a bit and my voting for Obama and gay marriage has certainly increased their hatred of me. Speaking of the gay issue…let me make it clear on how I feel about it as a staunch heterosexual. . I can care less about a persons’ sexual orientation. It’s none of my business and although I voted for it, that measure never should have been on the ballot in the first place. That was unconstitutional in of itself. Gays have the same rights as everyone else and when we initiate a measure that could deny folks of their inalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness and we allow it to be put to the vote we become un-American and traitors to the Republic in the process. The pursuit of happiness is one of the fundamental ideals that America was founded on and we cannot allow it to be infringed upon by those with fears and prejudices. Yes I have heard all the propaganda on the matter: it goes against the laws of nature, God considers it a sin, gays raising a child together would invariably make that kid gay. All bullshit! It does not go against the laws of nature. It is the norm actually; every creature on this planet, whether mammal, reptile, amphibian or bird has practiced “homosexuality” at one time or another. Even many species of flora are known to do so as well. As for God declaring it a sin, well I say that’s a load of crap too. God never declared that, but we have been taught to believe so from the teachings in the Bible. God did not author the Bible. Men who had their own fears, hatreds and prejudices wrote it. The Bible is tainted by the words and ideas of ignorant men and it cannot be used to deny folks of their rights. Freedom of religion does not trump one’s right to life and happiness and vice versa. God loves us all and only looks at what is in our hearts. He wants us to take care of one another. He wants us to be happy with ourselves, our lives and enjoy all he has given us. That brings joy to Him. And we all know that gayness is not an infectious disease that can be transmitted to others. You are either born gay or straight or bisexual or whatever. Environment has nothing to do with it. I believe that those who have a problem with gay folks are those that are uncomfortable with their own sexuality. They tend to be gay and hate themselves for it and thus lash out at those who remind them of who they truly are. I say get over it and live and let live. Furthermore, denying folks from marrying the one they love just because you don’t know how to explain homosexuality to your kids is just ridiculous. If you can’t talk to your kids about this stuff then maybe you’re a crappy parent and should be sterilized. Anyway, that’s my point of view on the subject and Ophelia’s parents do not like it one bit. I can care less of their opinion of me and I am not going to waste my time listening to bigots. Life is too short to entertain the sanctimonious ramblings of the ignorant and intolerant. My family is no different. After my mother passed away, my relationship with her side of the family became non-existent. I am an outcast as I am a gringo who looks more Jewish than Mexican and my Spanish is atrocious, at least they believe it is. Plus my conversion to Buddhism from Catholicism really shook things up with the family. My mom was a devout Catholic and I was raised as such and I was always forced to go to church every Sunday. My dad had no religious affiliations even though he was of Jewish descent. I never knew what he really believed as he never spoke of God or anything spiritual for that matter. He just hid himself in books and booze. My guess is that he had lost his faith sometime during the war. He must have done or seen something on the battlefield to cause him to question God’s plan. Alcohol was his only means of coping with it and it finally took his life in my first year of high school.
I tend to celebrate Christmas anyway because I do believe in goodwill and hope and kindness and all the other good things that the season brings out in folks. I have long since abandoned Buddhism as I no longer wanted to be affiliated with any religion. There are many tenets of the various faiths that I agree with, but I just don’t want to attach myself to any religious organization that more often than not, discriminates against those who do not share in their respective views. Organized religions cannot be trusted. They tend to warp God into an entity that suits their beliefs, fears and prejudices. These alliances have been the cause of most of the conflicts in the history of mankind. The true meaning of God has been lost on them as each religion believes that their way of worship is the one and only way in which to honor Him. I don’t need a religion to tell me how or when to worship. That is between the Almighty and me. God, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah, the Holy Spirit or whatever name you wish to call Him or Her is one thing only and that is Love. God is Love, period!

Preparations

2012-03-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

Christmas is only a few weeks away and Ophelia and I have managed to sell off a few things. Ebay and Craigslist are our main avenues of selling, but this economic climate has made it difficult to catch a fair price for our stuff. It seems as if everyone is selling and very few are buying. Those that are buying are making a killing. I am not bitter about that though as this whole ordeal has given me a new perspective on life. This recession or more accurately, depression, has taught me that material possessions do not make one successful, happy and whole. I have spent the last few years foolishly believing that acquiring material things fulfilled me in some way or another. I had basically given up on my dreams by laboring at a job I had never really enjoyed just to accumulate more crap and have an overpriced one-bedroom condo to keep it all in. My possessions had possessed me and now I can admit that fact and start anew by letting go of it all. If it wasn’t for this trip I think I would just give all this crap away. There are those who are in far worse shape than Ophelia and I and it would fill my heart with joy to donate it all. Christmas time tends to make me want to extend a helping hand to those in need, but I do want to take this trip and I must be selfish in order to make it happen. It is a shot at freedom for the both of us, a freedom that will give us each a better sense of self and purpose. That is my hope as I want both of us to find out who we are before committing to marriage. I do not want to marry someone just for the sake of doing what everyone perceives as the natural order of things and I do not want to settle for a life that does not fulfill me. I had settled for a mundane life though and had put my dreams on hold for a woman and a salary. I do love Ophelia, but the beliefs we have about what is important in life differs considerably. My hope is that we both find an answer that will make us truly happy and content no matter if it means an end to our relationship or not.
I once believed I had a handle on that, but somewhere along the line I let go. I compromised is what I did. I let my dreams slip wayside as my duties and pay increased. I had never planned on being an engine rebuilder when I took the job as a parts driver. I had no interest in horsepower or torque and I certainly had no interest in wrenching-it for the rest of my life. I took the job as I was broke and all I wanted to do was earn enough money to hit the road again. I moved up quickly in the company though and it wasn’t long before I settled on just traveling for two weeks a year. The extra pay did allow me to attend some literature and art classes at the local college and I was happy with all that for a little while.

Background on the Hostel Environment

2012-03-10T07:44:00.000-08:00

     It has been quite some time since I felt good about anything. The last couple of years have been a struggle for Ophelia and I and this trip is something we desperately need in order to preserve our sanity and keep us from hating one another. It has just about come to that point. I am very surprised that we made it this far without killing each other, but I believe the auction notice could have been the last straw if it hadn’t been for that Freudian slip of mine. I am grateful that Ophelia took a liking to this hostel environment experiment. Although my motives for this trip are purely self-serving, I really do believe that Ophelia will benefit greatly from this experience. Both of us will and for once in a long while, I feel good and hopeful of the future.       I met Ophelia about seven years ago in a pub in Seattle. I was there on vacation with some friends as was she. The remarkable thing about that was the fact that the both of us resided in Orange County. We had a wonderful romance in the Emerald city and decided to see each other on a regular basis when we returned home. We dated a bit before getting engaged and eventually we bought a little condo together. I wish I could say that all had been perfect like a fairytale come true, but we had our share of fights and spats over ridiculous things like so many other couples tend to have and we went about our lives relatively happy. Then the economy took a shit and everything became a struggle and we began to rip each other apart at every turn.
      Work had fallen off for the both of us and I was eventually let go since no one was really buying rebuilt engines anymore or anything else for that matter. Ophelia saw a cut in her pay and hours and it is just a matter of time before she is let go as well. The repossession of our vehicles, the mounting debt, the looming foreclosure and my inability to find work have all added to our stress and has strained our relationship beyond measure. The fights between us have grown exponentially over our plight and the appearance of the auction notice could have sent us over the edge if it hadn’t been for the introduction of the hostel environment experiment; an experiment that gave us a moment of hope and peace as we sat down to outline all the aspects of this trip to make it a reality.
      Making some money is our top priority of course. I have a little saved up from my unemployment benefits as I had stopped paying the mortgage and the homeowners’ association dues. We had gotten behind with them and our credit cards and the late charges and fees had all mounted up so quickly that it made it impossible to catch up. When we lost our vehicles we had to pay cash for a used one; cash that was intended for the mortgage or HOA dues or credit card bills and something more pressing was always popping up to divert money away from those bills that needed to be paid. A new water heater was needed at one point and had to be paid for in cash as our cards were maxed out. The rising gas prices had also caused us to miss payments which in turn added more fees and late charges to an already bloated debt. So I stopped making some payments as it was stupid to pay for something that we will eventually lose.
      The savings that I have will barely get one of us a round trip airline ticket and of course we need two as well as enough money to roam Europe for at least six weeks. Ophelia and I began by taking inventory of all the stuff that we could sell in order to pay for the trip. Most of it is crap that at one point we believed was important as it gave us the illusion that we were successful and well put together. I am as much to blame for the accumulation of these material things as I wanted to feel successful and I wanted others to see and think that about me as well. I had gotten caught up in the acquisition of things that really didn’t matter to me. I was a grease monkey and the only things I really needed to make me happy were hot showers, the HD big screen, the Wii, my recliner and a steady supply of dubeage. I could care less for the crystal stemware, espresso machine, furniture wine racks, goose-down pillows and comforter or the myriad of other crap that Ophelia and I constantly bought and brought home.
      It is nice to have nice things, but it made me lose track of myself and the things that really mattered in this world. I can understand Ophelia’s perspective as she was raised quite differently than me. Her parents are wealthy and she is used to having the finer things in life. Of course they are very tight with their money and give her almost zero financial support. It is for her benefit though. Her father wanted to teach her a thing or two about self-reliance. I could agree with that logic, but it is my belief that the man is just a prick and has never approved of her decisions, especially hooking up with this blue-collar Mexican Jew. I believe that her parents are hoping that this mess we find ourselves in will mean the end of our relationship. That is why they haven’t offered any support in our time of need.

Formulation of the Hostel Environment Experiment

2012-03-09T07:19:00.000-08:00

The creation of this blog is just one of many acts of a selfish man. This must be distinctly understood as I am that selfish soul and nothing good can come of this if I were not honest with you or myself. It all began a few nights ago when my fiancée Ophelia and I were about to eat another Ramen noodle dinner. We had gotten into yet another argument over our financial situation earlier that evening and we had just started to calm our nerves when a knock on the door roused our already anxious state. A knock on the door is a dreadful sound when one is in debt. We had stood frozen; awaiting the second rap to compel us to move, but all had remained silent until Ophelia finally exclaimed, “Oh for fuck’s sake,” as she moved to the front door of our little condo. Taped to the door was a notice announcing the details of an auction that involved our home. This of course was cause for another argument. Frustration and despair had gotten the better of me and in the middle of this heated yelling match I let slip the dream of leaving everything behind for the open road. Ophelia’s rage intensified with that outburst of mine and the only recourse I had in alleviating her agitated state and our situation was to include her in my dream of traveling somewhere far, far away. Now I stated before that I am a selfish man and I wanted that fact to be understood completely for it is I who inadvertently put forth the idea of abandoning all for the road and it is I who formulated the rules governing this idea and it is also I who convinced my fiancée to agree upon its implementation. I must now explain this idea and the rules that Ophelia and I have agreed to follow and how all this really serves me and my interests. The idea or plan is for us to travel to London together where we will separate and forge our own paths in order to re-evaluate our relationship and our lives in general. One might call this a test of our relationship and I would agree, but it is more than that. Ophelia and I have already gone through some rough times due to the failing economy and that would have been enough to test any relationship, but we also need some time apart in a new environment to rid ourselves of all the stress and anxiety and fighting that threatens our future together. Funding for this experiment will be limited obviously, so our accommodations will be restricted to youth hostels. We do hope to have enough dough saved up to travel around Europe for at least six weeks and as the rules stipulate, we cannot contact one another for the duration of the trip, unless of course it is a matter of life and death.
So how does all this serve me? For one, I get the chance to indulge in my desire to travel, second, I get the chance to pause a moment to re-examine my life and relationship with Ophelia and thirdly, I get the chance to write about it. Writing and traveling are my passions in life and this trip will give me the opportunity to combine the two to fulfill my aspirations of being an itinerant novelist. Not to mention my desire to share the emotional ups and downs I will certainly face on the road as I contemplate my relationship with Ophelia and an unknown future. These are the reasons behind the creation of this blog. It is simply my attempt at revitalizing my passions by documenting this experiment in “real time” via this blog and other social networking sites. It is my intent to be truthful about all that I do and see and feel and think in order to provide the reader with an honest account of my travels and the hostel environment. I will be documenting this endeavor without Ophelia’s knowledge and I know there are those of you out there who believe this to be foolish as she is sure to catch wind of it, but it is a risk I am willing to take.

Preface to Hostel Environment

2012-03-08T08:07:00.000-08:00

I have decided to post excerpts from my ebook, Hostel Environment: Tales of the Barefoot Backpacker since the first twenty percent is free on Smashwords. I'll begin with the preface of the ebook.

This is neither a novel nor a book, but rather a journal as the contents are really just the ramblings, observations and thoughts of a lone traveler’s experiences in the hostel environment. These “field-notes” were resurrected as a blog after a few years of lying dormant in a box full of memories. It was out of necessity that this journal saw the light of day again. I had no intention of posting excerpts from the journal on the web, but I had no choice in the matter. The original blog was meant to be a “real time” account of an experiment that my fiancée and I had agreed upon implementing. The experiment is a test really. A “relationship” test if you will. The plan is for both of us to fly to London together and then go our separate ways in an attempt to re-evaluate the direction of our relationship. We had already been through some rough times due to the failing economy and that would have been enough to test any relationship, but we also need some time apart in a new environment to rid ourselves of all the stress and anxiety and fighting that threatens our future together. I am going to document this experiment, without her knowledge mind you, as I roam across Europe via the network of hostels that pepper the continent. I began a blog to share our struggles and to introduce the solution we came up with, but its debut was a bit premature. Thusly, I had to post excerpts from my past travel and hostel experiences in order to please those who had begun following my blog. I couldn’t very well leave them high and dry. Not after recounting all our troubles and certainly not after I had opened up about who we are and the circumstances that led to our decision to leave it all behind to re-examine our relationship and our lives in general. I suppose when our departure time arrives I will begin documenting that journey via the blog or it could become the second part of this book or journal as I like to call it. I will begin this book with excerpts from the blog that brought Tales of the Barefoot Backpacker to light. Enjoy!

The Old Man

2012-03-07T10:33:00.000-08:00

It's hard filling the hours when unemployed and the new adventure is still in the distance. Writing is the only creative activity that keeps me from going nuts. I could just get high and watch the tube, but I'd rather not. So, I here submit a poem (not really a poem, just some dribble in the same format as a poem) that I have penned to keep me sane and away from the pipe. It is called The Old Man. It has nothing to do with travel or hostels, but what the hell.

I saw him just the other day
Driving a Ford Thunderbird
A red sixty-seven
I've seen him a lot lately
Even dreamt about him

I strolled into a diner

And there he stood
Old with white scruff on his face
He said he was sorry he left
Couldn't handle it at home
He had to get away

I said I wasn't angry

Just glad to see him
He smiled
I smiled
We said our farewells

I am angry though

Not for me
For the family
In any case, it was nice to see him

Twenty years have past

Since I saw the old man last
Laying so peaceful
Head resting on a blue satin pillow
Colorless hands placed on his chest
A golden angel pinned
On his Sundays best

She made me look
I didn't want to
I wanted to remember the man
With color and life in his face

I am angry though

Angry for the family mostly
It's nice to dream of him
That makes the anger subside a bit

2012-03-06T08:03:00.000-08:00

I must explain the purpose of this blog for newcomers and for those who had followed my posts previously. My fiancee and I are leaving shortly for London where we will separate and forge our own paths across England and Europe to re-evaluate our relationship. Postponements in this plan had caused me to post excerpts from my travel journals of previous trips to satisfy followers of my blog. I have since combined all those blog posts into an ebook which I have for sell on Smashwords.com. My hope is that you continue to follow my blog posts which will soon contain the "Hostel Environment" experiment that my fiancee and I agreed on implementing. My ebook is a rather enjoyable read and is very informative on solo travel via youth hostels. I welcome any comments and tips you may have accumalated in your travels. Thank you and safe travels.