Before I left for my travels I was adamant. I’d heard the stories of dorm-life. I’m too fond of my sleep and personal space (ok, ok, being naked) to be sharing that with 3 to 7 complete strangers. Sure, it’s all fun and games when you’re on a tight budget in your twenties but I have no desire whatsoever to do this.
The anekdote that encompasses all my beliefs about the dorm life was shared by the Canadian. I guess he was on one of the party party islands in Thailand, and in the middle of the night this one Dutch guy (it’s always the Dutch) comes back in a complete state of terror. He doesn’t know where he is, who he is or what the fuck he has been doing. Experimenting with illegal substances would be my guess.
So after shouting and thrashing about for a couple of hours this guy is finally knocked out. Come next morning he was oblivious to this all, obviously. I was already back home, presumably at work when I was regaled with the live feed of this ordeal. I’d already decided to go traveling and this just cemented my decision. No dorms for me.
My second (!) stay in Bali.. yep. A dorm. One bathroom for 8 girls. And you know what. I was wrong, sure it’s not all fun and games. Yes, Sweden, a 2 AM rise for the volcano hike was too early to turn on all the lights!
So, after a week in the dorms I decided to give myself a little treat in Gili – a nice (on paper) homestay with a queen-sized bed and the shower all to myself. After two nights I already miss the social life of a hostel. Also there was a cockroach the size of a mouse in my room. Back to the hostel tomorrow, as I already paid for the coming night and I’m too Dutch to take my losses – hehe.