I had spent a few days solo in Hampi and was now looking forward to interact with actual people at a social hostel I had booked, following a thorough check of the reviews. Before booking into a hostel you must always check the reviews! Deciphering a review on Hostelworld is an art form that I have become skilled in over the years.
Note to self: create a future blog post on the specific types of hostels.
There are some keywords that are universally used like clean, friendly or relaxed. These are positive. There are also universally negative keywords like dirty, unsafe or party hostel. This last one is the worst, it's all encompassing and can signify most, if not all of the following:
Dirty
Faulty plumbing
No lockers (or easily broken into)
24/7 techno music
Creaking dorm beds (or live sex shows, depending on which 'glass half..' you are)
Anything can be mistaken as a bathroom
As you hone your reviewing skills you may start to take into account the age, gender or nationality of the reviewer. For example, the universally used party hostel can be translated to good vibe when in India. Avoid places that are described as having a good vibe in India.
Dreams Hostel in Vagator had passed the review check and so I was severely disappointed and questioning my skills when I arrived at 7am to absolute carnage. I walked into the common area, where the tables were full of half empty bottles and tobacco pouches, with spliff ends and empty baggies stuck to the table where spilled drinks had dried. I looked around to find a topless man spooning a dog. Both were heavy snoring and I was unable to discern which snore was coming from which. Shortly after 5 more topless British men arrived, likely from a night out, walking in zig zags to eventually pass out on the sofa and hammocks. I took a seat in on the sofa and waited for my check in which was 6 hours away. A few hours went by and the rest of the guests started to emerge and sit around the sofas, water bottles and fresh spliffs in hand, the classic wake and bake. I was offered a puff on numerous occasions and politely declined but listened intently as they recounted their individual experiences on acid during the psy-trance festival from the night before. Still recovering from food poisoning and feeling in the hostel 'deep end', I contemplated changing my booking and checking in elsewhere. Perhaps the 39 year old age cut off was a warning sign I should have paid more attention to in the hostel description. In the end I decided the private room for a tenner per night was too good of a bargain and stayed put.
I have a knack of bumping into people in the most random of places when I travel and so it was only a matter of time before the first run in where I was able to place a friend's ex, Tom, after hearing his unique laugh in the common area. Random encounter count: 1.
When I travel I tend to flip flop between active, unique and somewhat harder places to travel to more relaxed sociable places. The days preceding Goa I had been enjoying my own company, being pretty active and staying in quiet places and now I was looking forward to some decent food, some drinks, good company and ‘easy’ travelling. I guess you could say it was my holiday from my holiday.
Thankfully the Hostel had changed face (the one-off weekend psy-trance festival had caused a temporary shift in vibe of the hostel) and now I was able to meet plenty of less intense people to eat, drink and play monopoly deal with.
I suspect that my food poisoning had initially been caused by brushing my teeth with the tap water, something I have done since day 1. It had then been prolonged by the dairy (ghee, cheese, milk powder) I've been accidentally served at countless places so specifically chose Vagator as a place which would be close(ish) to a dedicated, highly rated vegan restaurant. The restaurant was called Bean Me Up. It did not disappoint as I visited it twice a day, every day sampling almost the entire menu and clocking up over 10km just in walking back and forth from there each time. Classic creature of habit. The food was sensational though and my stomach began to improve.
Having not had a night out on the trip yet and still in recovery, I decided to go with a group to a nearby nightclub, which I attempted to do sober. The place had potential but it felt a bit weird when a girl from our hostel was the only moving in the middle of the dance floor and was being filmed intensely without consent. It was clearly for promotional footage due to the colour of her skin (white). Everyone else in the club just stood around awkwardly and watched. I was also shocked to see the price of the drinks were more expensive than high end London places (~2k rupees for a cocktail) and finally after a visit to the bathroom and having a drunken Indian ‘bad boy’ aggressively kick the door open and break the lock (my fast hand reactions quick enough to protect my modesty), I decided to head home. Feeling a bit out of touch and disappointed it was a breath of fresh air when I hit up my friend Ricky from back home who was coincidentally in Goa the following day. We went to a beach bar to have some dinner and drinks for the sunset before meeting his sister and heading to a nearby bar, Purple Martini. We danced and partied the until the place shut and it was so much fun. Faith in Indian clubbing restored.
The rest of the time consisted of more visits to Bean Me Up and beach walks whilst I listened to my second audiobook of the trip 'Anxious People' by Fredrik Backman (emotional comedy-crime caper which has been made into a Netflix series, definitely recommend!) The hostel atmosphere had also really improved and while most people were much younger than me we spoke the mutual language of card games and insulting each other. A favourite of mine being when when a young traveller warned me “a couple more of those and you'll be kicked out the hostel” after playing my 3rd ‘Its my birthday’ card in Monopoly deal.
North Goa gets a lot of bad press from Indians and backpackers alike but overall I found it to be a fun and beautiful place. I suspect the hate is partially driven by it being the traveller in-vogue thing to do, much like disliking Dubai having never visited or taking the mickey out of a backpacker with a suitcase (or 'flashpacker'.. sadly, that's me).
All in all Goa provided exactly what I needed and my hostel reviewing skills remain intact. Next stop Mumbai where finally will start the travels with Emma after nearly a month apart.
Ricky in Purple Martini
More Indian men posing for photos
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