You guys, I almost committed murder.
Let me explain…
I’d like to think that I’m a considerate person when it comes to shared rooms in hostels.
I try not to make noise when people are sleeping. I try not to slam the door when people are sleeping. I try not to chat with others (not loudly anyway) when people are sleeping. Even when getting up in the middle of night to use the bathroom, I try to be as quiet as possible.
Why? Because it’s a shared room. Other people are sleeping. It’s just common courtesy.
Or you’d like to think so. Most people I’ve shared a room with so far in Australia have usually been very considerate of each other.
However, when living in a hostel, you will run into the loud drunken party-goers. There will be people who turn on the lights at 4 o’clock in the morning. There will be people who chat and chat and chat (really, really, really loudly) when you’re trying to sleep. There will be people who can’t handle their alcohol. There will be people who will have sex in your shared room because they’re too cheap to get a private room.
I didn’t have too much of a problem in Sydney as most people were considerate (most) of each other. That, and I was staying in an all female room and it had a bunch of good rules inside the rooms (i.e. no sex, control your alcohol, don’t play with plastic bags when people are sleeping, etc).
But let’s just say, in Brisbane, I almost stabbed some sons of bitches a few nights ago.
I signed up to stay in a mixed shared room, which I really didn’t have a problem with until my very last night at the hostel. I’ve only stayed in a mixed room one other time and that was in Portland, Oregon and everyone was respectful of each other.
In Brisbane, I actually met some really nice people (male and female) and we hung out together. It was fine. It was fun. They were nice and considerate (even when drunk).
Then a huge group of 20-something-year-olds moved into the room my last two nights at this hostel. They were all a part of some program from the UK and traveled together for awhile but are starting to separate now. (I know, I know. I sound really old calling them 20-something-year-olds when I myself am a 20-something-year-old.)
When I walked in, the room was filled with a bunch of guys. My first thought was: great, I have to share a room with all dudes. Then Amy walked in who was traveling with them and I was bit grateful that there was another girl in the room.
They were nice. They talked to me. They joked with me. They made me tea. And then they apologized in advance about having to wake up really early in the morning because they were all going to the zoo.
They did wake up early. They did make a bit of noise. But I didn’t mind so much. Mostly because they told me about it the night before.
However, that night (the night of their zoo trip) was NOT OK.
The beds weren’t comfortable to begin with and that entire night I wasn’t feeling well. I think it’s because I’ve been eating crap on top of crap and then some more crap and it’s starting to affect my body and I had a bit of a headache and a bit of a stomachache and I just wanted to be somewhere that felt like home.
But I wasn’t home. I was in a room filled with drunken strangers who don’t know how to turn off the nights or shut up. Ever.
They were all scattered within the group. One guy stayed in early and chatted with me and a Scottish girl, Kelly, who I met on my first day in Brisbane and moved back into my room for the night. The guy was a nice dude. His friends, however, were about to get stabbed by a crazy Chicagoan.
It was 1 A.M. when two guys walked into the room and chatted and chatted and chatted and chatted. Then I asked if I could turn off the nights, which was code for Shut-The-Fuck-Up.
They continued to chat in the dark. It was a drunk chat. It was a stupid chat. But it was a chat when two other people were trying to sleep.
Then one other guy came into the room and joined the chat. And just when everyone seemed to quiet down, the last two came in around 3 or 4 A.M. (the last guy and the only girl in their group).
They were drunk. They were loud. They laughed. They made fart noises. And they chatted with everyone else in the room – everyone but the two who were trying to sleep.
I didn’t understand. They were all so considerate when leaving for Zoo in the morning and complete A-holes when coming in at 4 A.M.
Needless to say, I didn’t get any sleep. At ALL. I still didn’t feel well. And I was completely uncomfortable. Luckily, I booked another hostel for the next day, which wasn’t so far away from the one I was staying in (which I wasn’t too crazy about to begin with).
I left at 8 A.M. when everyone was trying to sleep, except Kelly, who went for a run and was leaving for Sydney that day. I made as much noise as I could. On purpose. I threw my suitcase on the floor, making a loud thumping noise. I turn on the bathroom lights. I threw my sheets on the floor. And I turned on the lights when I walked out the door.
This was the only way I could rebel. I MEAN I COULD have went out and got a horn and blew it in everyone’s ear to enhance the hung over experience.
Kelly sent me a text when she returned as I agreed to have breakfast with her the night before. I sent a text back saying I already ate and that I had to leave or I would have stabbed someone and I’ll meet up with her before she leaves.
And this is the story of how I almost went to Aussie jail. Well, not really. But you know.
Have you had bad experiences with people you’ve shared rooms with in hostels?