We’ve camped almost every night of our journey. We’ve stayed at one hostel, and at another hostel that turned out to be a hippie commune. That’s a story for another time.
I’m now downtown Sydney, in a hostel called “Elephant Backpackers.” It’s an old, ex-hotel run by travelers in their twenties. This weathered building sleeps over 200 every night. I ate dinner in a “dining room” where people yelled, laughed, and cooked their own meals. Afterward, my friends and I were invited into the TV room by a random French guy to play Fifa.
My bunkroom is shared with eight other people, the city bustling outside our window. I feel like a freshman at Texas State University, in a big, new place full of people from everywhere. A place where I haven’t yet earned my stripes. It’s refreshing.
The building is old and smelly. Paint peels off of the graffiti-coated walls. We busted out laughing when our friend Mike, from the UK, didn’t know how to ask the random girl he found sleeping in his bunk to move.
This place is as clean as any four-story building operated by traveling children. I’m running around with no shirt or shoes, while cigarette smoke and foreign languages float around the outside windows. The girls in my room line chocolate and ramen noodles on the window next to their bunks.
As I walk toward the showers, I noticed people’s shoes lining against the wall in the florescent-lit hallway. On the shower ceiling, I found black mold, and I smiled. All the imperfections of this building give it so much character. My old freshman dorm, Brogdon Hall, had rickety pipes that kept us up all night during the winter. Mold, mildew, and community toilets forced us away from our (lack of) amenities, and into the downstairs lobby. To bond over the building. To met, and to fall in love.
Brogdon built my college career. My best friend, whom I met in Brogdon, has been my roommate for six years and is now in Australia with me. The young lady who helped me create the H.E.A.T. non-profit was one of the first people I met in our dorm. I keep in touch with all of my Brog Dogs to some extent. I owe so much to that community, and this old hostel downtown Sydney has the same magic floating through its hallways. Goodnight Sydney, Australia.