Hostile Hostel

The treacherous trek described in my previous post was just the beginning of our Ibiza nightmare. After a rough landing and bus ride into the Old Town of Eivissa, Ryan and I were greeted by our hostel host José, who didn’t seem to understand our exhausting struggle because he did not speak English. It was hard to remain positive as he ushered us into a small elevator that I was almost certain was on it’s last ride up. Prying open the doors upon our fifth floor arrival, my eyes darted towards Ryan’s as we telepathically begged for a miracle together. Unfortunately, our prayers went unanswered as we stumbled into our room that was essentially a closet with a dinky fan, one bunk bed, and an overweight shirtless man cutting an apple with a Swiss Army knife.

Needless to say, the hostel was not anything close to what was advertised online and after our 24 hour voyage, it was the last place me and Ryan wanted to be. After a five minute chit-chat with our strange, fruit loving roommate Javier and thirty minutes of attempting to get comfortable on our cardboard twin bed, we devised a plan of escape to initiate as soon as the sun rose again- if it ever would.

7:42am- We woke up in a combined puddle of sweat to the snoring of Javier. Knowing we couldn’t leave until he left, we turned over and tried to fall back asleep.

9:12am- The slamming of a door startled us out of our half asleep state. Though abrupt, we were thankful Javier was finally gone so we could pack up and hit the road.

10:00am- Bags are packed, and a note in broken up Spanish explaining our sudden departure was ready to be left on the empty bed. As we prepared to leave the keys and our awful memories behind, it occurred to us how bad we smelled.

10:15am- Shower. (Of course there wasn’t any shampoo, conditioner, or soap provided and since our liquids got thrown out at the airport the day before, we used the only thing available: dish soap from the kitchen sink). Desperate times call for desperate measures.

11:00am- EXIT PROMPTLY.

 

Freedom at last! Ryan and I practically ran out of the hostel with our 40lb bags like a couple of bums that just won the lotto. We quite literally jumped for joy and then asked ourselves, “Shit. Now what?”

 

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One thought on “Hostile Hostel

  1. You are so funny! Sorry we missed each other. Hope to see you soon. Hi to Ryan and it looks like you all had a great time over the weekend.

    Like

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