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July 08, 2005


john L

OK, another one:
The Typhoid Mary: This pititful creature insists on wheezing, coughing, sniffling and sputtering for the duration of their stay. They know they are ill. They know that they are harbouring a highly transimissible airborne virus... yet they insist on thier inalienable right to the cheap, close proximity environement of a dormitory.
They insist on keep everyone up all night with their intermittent expectorations and giving everyone else the bug as well.

John L

Just encountered another one for the list... or two rather:
The midnight shaggers. Actually had this pair last night.
No matter how they muffle their grunts and groans of ecstasy, no matter how they try to keep the squeeky bedsprings and rattling bunk frame under control, nothing can conceal the fact to you or the rest of the dorm that this pair are going at it like two stoats in spring.
My advice: get a private room. I don't wanna see it, hear it, tough it or smell it.
Or else if its "sex in public" that's your thing: Get a telephone booth.


Bitty Betty of the Lee Travellers Club, Singapore. 50 year old Brit with snob all over her face. She'd been living in the hostel on and off for at least a year and paid for her bed by touting at the airport, and every time she came back from the port with a new backpacker she'd sidle over to my corner and give me a report, saying things like 'There's a new Chineeeese/Gerrrrman/Frenchman in tonight,' and then tell me whether the person was appropriate or not for the establishment, as if Lee's was the St James Club. Lying there in a grimy dormitory bed, every night having to look at this fool talking out of that that bitty mouth, everybody in the place mumbling fuck off betty, all thinking about pushing her out the window. And then she'd go over to her bed and spread her things out on the floor to stake out territory for herself, make sure every newcomer understood this was a no go zone, this was Betty's front garden or something. I'd lie there watching it and think about interesting ways of killing her.

Jerry keim

Ohhh, the pleasure of communing with one's fellow man. On my travels through the great unwashed hostels of the world I also often found myself at the mercy of that most unholy trinity.
At the frontline was the 'early to bed man.' Their nasal passage, supercharged with a buzzsaw, would fire up at about 10pm serenading one and all.
They were then reinforced by the 'pissed buffoon'man. Stumbling in about 2am, he would proceed to curse and squeel as he knocked his head on various sharp protrusions around the bunk. The final blow was delivered about 4am by the 'early riser'man, who would seemlingly endlessly rattle through backpacks to ensure that every last crap souvenir has been packed correctly before jumping on the 6am train to Florence.
As my peacenik persona broke down through sleep deprivation, I realized the only successful defence against this axis of evil was preemptive attack. This involved going out, drinking copious volumes of hard liquor, stumbling into the dorm about 3am and collasping into the deepest of comas through to midday.
Aahhh, the joys of underfinanced travel.

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