Two hundred and nine

The woes of staying in a hostel…

The communal shower (two for all the women of the floor) is the size of a refrigerator, that has a door that opens into the toilet stall directly across and I am scared to touch the walls of.  There is no room or place to put your clothes to change in to, so you either have to walk through the bathroom naked (in which the main door is always open, so inevitable some guy will be walking by in the hall as you walk past the open door to get your clothes and give him a show), or you have to hang your clothes on the door of the shower and have them get wet.

And that is the least of my worries.  Besides the drunken twenty-year old Aussies walking around the hallways yelling at each other at all times of the night, there is the thumping music of the bar below and the fact that there are always people coming and going from the dorm.  To top it all off, last night I came back to the hostel to find some girl sleeping in my bed, in the sheets that I had slept on.  She had moved all of my things that I had set out on the bed (including my water bottle, book, pen and paper) to the upper bunk and got cosy in my dirty sheets.  So weird.  I have stayed in a lot of hostels and never has that happened to me before.

Luckily, though, nothing of mine has been stolen.  And it is really cheap.  Not cheap enough for me to want to stay another night in the dorm, though – I’m splurging on a private room for my last night in Vancouver.

With the grime of the hostel on my skin and a full day of walking around, I also splurged on a prime rib dinner (getting prepared for vegan month starting Saturday) at The Keg where I used to work five years ago.  It was very odd to go back in there after all these years.  My first kiss story today comes from the bartender there.

Kristen’s first two kisses – in the same night!

“I was in grade ten and I was at a party.  It was what it was like when you’re at a party.  I won’t say there was drinking, but you know…  I had a crush on this guy I was friends with.  We were talking outside and I kinda told him I had feelings for him and he just went in for the kiss.  I had butterflies.  Then later on this other guy that I didn’t talk to that much out of the blue kissed me too!”

Two hundred and eight

Life can’t get any better than this.  I love Vancouver sushi.  And it is so great spending some ‘me’ time wandering the city and reminiscing about when I used to live here.  I went to many of my old haunts, did a bit of shopping on Granville Island, and lots of sushi.  And it’s warm here!

Rita (number two) from Germany’s first kiss

I woke up Marguerita (Rita for short) when I entered my hostel room at 2 pm, slamming the door into the lockers behind it and flipping on the lights.  I didn’t notice her there on the top bunk until she sat up in her bed.  I apologized and turned off the lights, but then somehow managed to keep being clumsy and making noise.  “I should get up,” she said.  “I didn’t sleep last night, but I have only two days here.  What’s your name?”  After introductions and stories about both our adventures to get here (she’s from Germany and is on a month-long trip across parts of the United States and Canada), I brought up my blog.

“I was 14.  We were going to a party.  You had to be 18, but I wore lots of makeup.  It was with a boy who was 15.  My friend said all the girls wanted to be with him.  He looked good.  We were sitting on the floor together, then we were dancing.  He just pulled me and kissed me.  It wasn’t very nice.  I was like ‘yay, I was kissed’, but it wasn’t romantic or special.  Before I didn’t know what to do or how to do it.  Then it happened and I was worried it would always be that way.  It was wet all around my mouth.”  Rita made a circle with her hand to show it was wet about an inch circling her lips.  “I thought why would people like to kiss then?  Not very nice.  But I realized when I got older that it gets better!”