Four Kids, One Hostel, and a Pot of Soup: Our First Hostelling Experience

 

I’ve never had the opportunity to stay in a hostel before, but I have always wanted to, if only to have the experience. Of course, from my idealized vantage point, the hostel experience would include travelers from all parts of the globe gathered in a cozy common area- sharing food, swapping stories. Then, when it couldn’t get any cozier,  the backpacker from Germany with the two week old beard would break out the guitar for a group sing-a-long. I warned you it was idealized.

Although my frosted fantasy of a hostel looked something like a scene out of “It’s a Small World,” the potential nightmare stories of hostelling, including bed bugs, drunken scenes from random strangers, and safety were all enough to steer me from booking a hostel. But, the real deterrent was my kids. I might be willing to take a chance on a less than ideal lodging situation if I were traveling on my own, but with little people to protect, I have always made the responsible choice and stayed away from the uncertainty of hostelling.

Well, until now.  

I was invited to stay at Point Montara Lighthouse on the California coast 25 miles from San Francisco. If ever there was a moment to throw caution to the wind and try something new, it would have to involve a lighthouse. The addition of a lighthouse was the cherry on the sundae of my hostel fantasy, so I booked two nights for six people, including four kids and hoped for the best.

~Originally established in 1875, the lighthouse is still in operation by the US Coast Guard.~

Although, I talked about the experience with excitement, there was a part of me that was very unsure about what to expect. Having never even come near a hostel, I had only my preconceived ideas to rattle around worries. I wondered if the kids would be welcomed, or if they would be viewed as a nuisance. I worried that it might not be safe enough or clean enough.  I had to admit, with chagrin, that I mostly worried that we wouldn’t know how to act. The absurdity that I was perfectly comfortable in a five star hotel, but nervous about the common room at the hostel was a laughable reminder that I was completely out of my comfort zone.

Of course, that’s what travel is all about, I reminded myself, as we turned the corner into the parking lot and made our way towards check-in.  

A shelf stocked full of beach toys, towels, and outdoor games would have been the first thing that caught my eye, if I hadn’t been joyfully soaking in the charming, slightly weathered, squatty lighthouse next to the Anne of Green Gables-esque home and yard. A wildflower garden in a wide, grassy yard, flanked by swing built for two was not only a welcome mat for children, it seemed to welcome everyone.  My worries began to relax, as the undercurrent of peace that trickled from every corner of the property reeled me in.

~The Keepers House and Yard are a charming welcome to the hostel and a great place for kids to play.~

From the exterior, Point Montara was looking much more like my dream scenario than a nightmare. If not for the fantastic ocean symphony crashing on the rocks below the lighthouse, I was certain l would have heard the guitar sing-a-long starting in the warmly lit living room.

~Entrance to the Guest Rooms~

The inviting atmosphere flowed from the outside inward as we stepped into the converted coast guard lodging to sign into our room.  We were welcomed by the front desk staff, and given a run-down of the procedures of the hostel. As I listened, I allowed my eyes to wander around the common area, which included a spacious living room and dining area, as well as two kitchens. The rooms were definitely not pristine and showed their age, but held more of a well-loved vibe rather than the unkempt state I feared. In fact, the cleanliness of the hostel was obvious and admirable with the number of people coming in and out of the building.

~Dining room overlooking a living area with wood burning fireplace.~

We had arrived on a holiday weekend, a prime time to see the hostel buzzing with occupants. Activity was everywhere, but the large crowd moved in and out of the common areas with respect for those around them. Groups of people-some friends, some strangers- were scattered around the comfortable couches flanked by bookshelves, or serving up food that they prepared in the kitchen. It was a motley crew, spanning every demographic, but everyone seemed to feel at home.

As I breathed a sigh of relief and began to feel more comfortable, I was able to watch my kids absorb the details around them. I had tried to explain the concept of a hostel to the kids ahead of time, but they had a hard time really understanding the idea of being in a house that they would share with others, but they would still have their own room. I resigned myself to the idea that, like so many other travel adventures, it would just be something they would have to experience first-hand. 

Because of the size of our family, we were booked into a six bed dorm that would serve as a private room for us. The room also had an ensuite bathroom, an enviable treat in a hostel. Point Montara also has female and male dorms, as well as a select few couples rooms. After our orientation, we were offered our sheets and pillowcases and shown to the end of the hall where we entered our room using a push code.  Three sets of bunkbeds sat in neat rows inside with duvet covers, blankets, and pillows waiting at the end of each bed.

~A Bunk Room with Six Beds~

With excitement, the kids jumped into claiming and making their beds. Before long, we were settled into our room. Because it was late in the day, the kids were more than happy to snuggle into bed. Because the wi-fi was so excellent, they were more than happy to stay there, blissed out on a sort of internet induced nirvana until bedtime. After two weeks of camping, I was happy to indulge them in a mini-marathon of online game playing.

~View from the Breakfast Table~

We tiptoed around on that first night feeling like guests, but by morning of the second day, the shackles fell off and we felt at home. With a full kitchen available, I was able to treat my family to cinnamon rolls for breakfast. After nearly a month of living out of tents and hotel rooms, it was a rare treat to have a baked breakfast. While I prepared breakfast, my five year old dove into a basket of toys kept in the corner of the living room and chatted up anyone who came within a five foot radius of his play circle. Before long we were friends with everyone in the common area. Children are excellent barrier breakers.

~A good selection of toys waited for any children in the living room~

One by one my older boys wandered into the dining area, and sleepily curled up on the couches. Their comfort was a far different scene than when they had peered into the living room with uncertainty the night before. Like magnets, they gravitated towards the other child who was staying in the hostel that night. They were strangers only for a second, and they quickly made friends and found common interests. Video games are excellent barrier breakers, as well.

~Meeting new friends and comparing video game notes~

We enjoyed our family breakfast around a proper table, and begin to make plans for the day. Point Montara has “shut-out” hours from 11:00-3:30 to allow for cleaning and other chores, so we made plans to eat our lunch at the picnic tables around the property and then take one of the hikes suggested by the front desk. As 11:00 drew closer, the hum of activity in the common areas gradually slowed, as guests headed out with different purposes and desires. The ebb and flow of activity that centered around mealtimes felt very similar to the typical energy in my own home.

~Time to do a little schoolwork while doing a little people watching.~

Over lunch, one of the boys aptly articulated what we had all experienced over breakfast when he said, “I like it here. It just feels so….friendly.”  My mother’s heart smiled to see my kids embracing a new experience.

After a day well spent exploring the coast and cities nearby, we returned to the hostel with a sack full of groceries and a plan. After the reminder that both video games and children break down any awkwardness between strangers, I hoped to use a time honored barrier breaker to make even more new friends-food.

~One of the two well stocked kitchens at Point Montara~

Inspired by the long lost domesticity I had rekindled over breakfast, I was eager to spend some time in the kitchen making one of our favorite dishes for dinner. I hoped share with the other guests in the hostel, and use the universal symbol of full bellies to make some new friends.  While sautéing onions and garlic, I hoped that if I cooked it, they would come.

Over soup, get-to-know-you conversations were easy. People shared where they had been and where they were going, some in broken English and some with ease. By the time chocolate chip cookies were coming out of the oven, the exchanges had evolved to deeper thoughts of politics, cultural differences, and ponderings about travels of the future.

~A few of the thoughtful and fun details that made Point Montara a welcoming retreat~

Long after the cookies were cooled and the soup bowl had been drained to the last drop, people were still gathered around the table to talk. The kids grew tired and sought sleep in their bunkbeds, but the grownups talked on, late into the night. As a writer and a world observer, I drank it up. In between washing dishes and doing laundry, two tasks that are typical of my daily life, I dove deeply into the conversations with friends who used to be strangers. It was exactly the ideal that I had in mind when I thought about the idea of staying in a hostel-people swapping stories and food, sharing a commonality of personalities that are primed for adventure and willing to wander. There never was a bearded guy with a guitar, but maybe we’ll meet him next time. There will definitely be a next time.