Hotel with an S = Hostel

Tuesday July 6, 2010 - After landing in Gatwick over a redeye, the directions provided by the website and the confirmation letter were very helpful in finding the hostel, tucked away in a courtyard through an alley way a block from Russell Square. My first impression as I awaited reception was how busy the hostel was, like the opening day of frosh week as students moved into the dorm. As expected, arriving just after the 10:00 a.m. check out time but still hours before check-in time, my 4p dorm room was not ready yet as reception handed me the key for the storage room. A sense of panic set in as I opened the tiny storage room with shelves from floor to ceiling packed with backpacks and luggage. The only security was a mounted video camera surveillance, but from years of watching CSI, I knew most of these were just for show. So not wanting to carry my both my daypack and the backpack with me the whole day until check in, the process of sorting and moving things from my day pack to the back pack began, with my stuff all over the storage room floor. In the end, my day pack remained as full as ever, and left behind, my backpack secured by a tiny padlock from Dollarama.

At the end of a full day in the heart of London (more about that in my next post), I arrived back ready to put my day pack down and see my room. My backpack was still in the storage room where I left it, a big relief. With the insert of the 4p dorm room key, the bunk beds welcomed me to the world of hostelling. The individual lockers inside the room were a surprise, as I really didn’t know what to expect. The tiny sink in the middle of the room was a great final detail to complete the jail-cell chic.

After taking a shower (typical communal gym like facility), I found the happening place in the hostel not at the bar, but in the 24 hr Wi-Fi lounge, where giant screens blasting music videos, sport games or movies and everyone was wired with their chosen form of technology. I felt totally accepted with my netbook in hand and connecting with the world.

Back in my room (unpacking and repacking several times to fit everything in the locker), my first roommate came through the door, a girl from Massachusetts. After finding out she also flew in from the redeye and stayed up all day to beat jetlag, small talk was kept to a minimal as we were both exhausted. As I drifted into sleep in my foreign bunk bed, the last two roommates arrived, a mother and son team who didn’t speak much English, but from the fact that she immediately started washing store bought strawberries out of the sink and chatting with her son in perfect Cantonese, I knew they were from Hong Kong. A sense of familiarity rushed over me and in my dreamy state of consciousness, I found a bit of home in my first night of hotel with an S.

1 - The Generator Hostel London in Russell Square, London
2 - Remained in London but moving to Chiswick, London on Thursday, July 8
3 - Strawberry washed by the lady from Hong Kong
4 - Work? What work?