Philosophy of Hosteling and Split, Croatia

From Ukraine, Romania, Hungary, Croatia, Serbia, and Slovenia

In Zagreb there is no public wireless internet, and there seem to be only two internet cafes. One of these cafes requires that you—I cannot believe this—feed coins into the computer in order to surf. I'm at the other one. Most of this material was written at the Oliver Twist Pub.

After that wild last night at Saloon, I returned to the hostel, then walked to the train station. I was a bleary-eyed wreck. I rode in a semi-conscious state about 7 hours down to Split, a celebrated coastal city in Croatia.

Most surreal after experiencing the spring temperatures of Zagreb was the sight of snow-capped mountains overlooking fields covered in snow. Much of the interior of Croatia is national parkland. It's gorgeous. Nice though the snow was, I was pleased that warmer weather awaited me in Split.

I stepped off the train to a chorus of people shouting, "Do you need accomodation?" "Do you need a room?" and so on. I hate that.

Then I couldn't find the hostel. I wandered up and down the street seeking the Hostel Split Mediterranean. It was at No. 21 along the street, but the numbers jumped from 19 to 23. Since I had never received a confirmation from the hostel, I was unsure as to whether or not the hostel even existed anymore.

I wheeled my baggage to a second hostel, called Croatian Dream, which I had seen on the way up the same street, but while some too-trusting guest buzzed me in, the staff was not there, and after five awkward minutes of waiting (the sign on the door said "Back in 30 minutes"—30 minutes from when?) I decided to split (forgive me).

I went on to a third Split hostel, one for which I had collected a flyer in Budapest. It's called "Al's Place," and it's run by a British fellow whose name you can guess. But when I finally found it it was closed for renovation.

I was at wit's end.

Fortunately, while Al's Place was closed, a dusty and disheveled Al was there. He was renovating the hostel. Remarkably, he took time out to talk to me. It turned out he was in a spat with the very same Hostel Split Mediterranean I sought, because they had taken a very similar internet domain name (his is www.hostelsplit.com, and theirs is www.hostel-split.com). The spat was serious enough that he was reluctant to call the number I had for them, but he encouraged me to go back and find it. He even let me keep my luggage at his place while I made my second search, a great burden literally lifted from my shoulders. Al is obviously a terrific guy, so if you find yourself in Split during the summer season be sure to make Al's Place your first choice.

When I returned to the original street and found myself facing the same 19 to 23 quandry, I heard a guy shout, "Hello! You're Andrew? You made reservation for hostel on internet?" It was a grinning old man in a cap standing in front of a gate in a little alley off of the street proper. Clearly he was a true blue Croatian.

So I found the place, or rather the propreitor found me. I was deposited in a cozy, three bedroom apartment all to myself for 100 kruna a night, which is less than $20.

The proprietor was very friendly, if a bit perfunctory, in explaining the details. Then he left, and I never saw him again—even when I had decided to spend some more time in Split and wanted to pay the necessary money in order to do that. After fruitlessly knocking on the man's door, I wound up stuffing money into it with notes explaining my intentions. I guess this was acceptable.

Al had told me that Croatians are suspicious of strangers, and that this colors their style of running hostels. Why would anybody want to fraternize with strangers who might try stealing your stuff? they reckon. So, often a solo traveler can be placed in a room of his own for no additional cost. But although having a space to yourself is nice, for the solo traveler it's also alienating. Al spoke passionately of the importance of bringing people together at a hostel in order to facilitate the creating of new friendships. Despite my general introversion, I had to admit he had a point. The times I spent at the hostel in Kiev, with the gentle/hard-partying Gautier, the talented writer Keith, the wise beyond her years Lauren, and the affable mega-snorer Piet were among the best of my trip.

My Review of the One Step Independence Square Hostel in Kiev, Ukraine

From Kiev, Ukraine

A fellow guest told me he was offered a 50% discount to write a positive review of the hostel. I was offered no such discount myself, so I will say what I will. The hostel was very clean, the staff was responsive, and the wi-fi was a great convenience. Some of the guests were disturbed by the proprietor's fondness for taking showers with the bathroom door open, his habit of shouting out the names of his employees ad nauseam, and his tendency to wander around the premises clad only in extremely tiny underwear, but perhaps these were simply misunderstood tokens of Ukrainian hospitality.

(In truth, I have it on good authority that this is the best hostel in Kiev, so be sure to consider it if you find yourself in that city.)

Swedes Invade the Hostel

From Kiev, Ukraine

Every bed in the hostel is occupied, and even the employees are having to make sacrifices. Two employees slept in our room and had to endure Piet's amazing snoring. The next night they opted for the kitchen instead.

This is because a group of Swedish high school kids have arrived. They are finishing their secondary school experiences and will soon take tests to determine their future career tracks.

They are here to learn specifically about how Swedish business in conducted abroad. So they are visiting various Swedish companies based here in Kiev. One of the instructors explained to me over breakfast that there are certainly warmer destinations to consider taking the kids to, but that Kiev is cheaper, and so they come here.

Ukraine - Hostel Booked

"Irony" has been the operative word this week here in sunny Atlanta, where temperatures plummeted into the teens (that's in degrees Fahrenheit) and two inches of snow and ice prevented most friends from making it to my Friday "Going to Kiev" get-together. There is a larger party tonight which will make up for some of that.

My friend Nathan, at whose Decatur house I am staying, was not able to drive up the steep and icy hill just outside his front door, so we nixed our last Vortex/Apres Diem night plans and hiked to the James Joyce Pub instead.

The hike was fun. In the early darkness we wandered through a woodsy area where some unknown wild animal crunched around in the leaves by the trail (my wind-up power flashlight failed to flush it out, but I'm sure it was a wolf ;-)). As we crossed a small bridge a MARTA train gracefully swung by underneath, its amber windows glowing and a few passengers visible as it glided towards Atlanta.

Once at the James Joyce bar counter, an older woman walked up behind Nathan and put her hands over his eyes saying, "I hope you're who I think you are." He wasn't, and she laughed and apologized and went on about how she had met somebody at the bar before who wore a sweater similar to Nathan's. It was all terribly awkward. I suspect this was her version of a pick-up line; that her story was fiction. This being my last Friday night in Atlanta for at least a few months, I was not interested in having a kooky woman invite herself into the conversation so that she could awkwardly hit on married Nathan.

Fortunately, friends Bryan and Laura arrived. Conversation was delightful. Laura flushed out plans to pursue freelance writing, we speculated about what the best bar in America is (and what qualities a great bar should have in the first place), and we weighed the merits of Def Leppard versus Poison. Bryan and Laura gave us a lift back to the top of Nathan's hill, we hiked down it, and after going to bed at 11 PM I awoke refreshed enough to be penning this blog entry.

Today I booked three nights at a hostel in Kiev, so I now have a place to go when I arrive. Picking one was tough; many highly-rated hostels can be found on the hostelworld.com website. I told myself I could sample several during my visit if I so desire, so if I'm unhappy with the first one I'll just move on to another.

Tours to Chernobyl were advertised on the web site as costing "a small fee," but the confirmation email revealed that small fee to be 120 euro per person, which is not a small fee at all. Will likely have to do this, though; it's a rare opportunity.

Back of my heel is injured, but Nathan, who leads a very active lifestyle, quickly diagnosed the condition and recommended stretching exercises that will, over time, solve the problem. I already sense improvement.