I awoke still shivering as the bus pulled into the woods. The tour company owns some land near a creek where fellow adventurers could come and relax and enjoy the great outdoors. We stopped here for a couple of hours for a much needed breakfast. It was of course the typical vegetarian, hippy type fare: blueberry pancakes, fruit salad and granola. It was very communal where folks were encouraged to get involved in the preparation and serving and the clean-up of the whole affair. It was quite fun, but also a little annoying as mostly everyone was vegetarian and/or a hippy. I have nothing against Vegans or hippies really, but they do tend to be a bit arrogant about their lifestyle and sometimes preachy; similar to religious groups or cults. I believe I was just being a tad pissy as I hadn’t slept much and a hearty breakfast was what I really wanted. I mean c’mon, meat is good! Granola is no substitute nor is tofu bacon. After breakfast some of us headed down to the creek where we could strip and take a dip in the frigid water. I wasn’t sure at first as I had never skinny-dipped with strangers looking on. I felt scummy from being on that bus, so I stripped and jumped in. It was freezing and I was relieved that none of the females were able to see what was left of my manhood as it had retreated into my body somehow in search of warmth. It felt wonderful washing away all the hippy grime though. Afterwards I went into the sauna on the bank of the creek where several more nude travelers sat absorbing the heat. It was very thrilling. I couldn’t help looking at the females like a child eyeing candied apples at the fair. I struggled not to give away my excitement as my manhood decided to make an appearance with utmost vigor.
I finished my sauna session and dressed and went up to the campground completely renewed. I took a seat at the blazing fire pit with a cup of tea. A joint was being passed around and I partook as I am not averse to its soothing affects. Everyone chatted away about their lives and the circumstances that brought them to the woods of Oregon. I wasn’t sure if anyone felt as I had. I felt lost and out of place. Everyone else seemed to have a good sense of who they were and their purpose in life. I suppose that is why I travel when I can as I am still searching for those answers. We boarded the bus and headed north to Seattle. I had no clue as to what was next, but I did know that I wanted to take this trip again.
The last leg of the drive was fun, although I still had a little anxiety as this would be my first time staying in a hostel and really my first time in a new city all alone. We played cards and chatted as the bus rolled into the city. It was late afternoon when the bus dropped us off at the hostel. A few of us scampered up to the second floor where we checked-in and got our room assignments. I opted for the six-bunk, co-ed dorm as I have no problem with female bunkmates. I found my room which was empty of anyone, but obviously there were signs that people were residing there. I threw my pack on an empty bottom bunk and then checked it for comfort. I then left the room to take a look around to get my bearings. The hallway was hot and humid. The bathrooms I found to be somewhat clean. I made my way to the common area where there were several people sitting around tables and booths reading or talking or looking over maps and guidebooks. There was a television broadcasting the local news and a few people were making dinner in the communal kitchen. I took a quick inventory of it and found it quite cluttered with everything one would need to make a meal.
The windows of the kitchen looked out onto a narrow balcony about ten yards long where some folks sat as they drank beer and smoked. The view was not particularly great. It was of a small parking lot with a partial view of 2nd street. Cattycorner from the kitchen and balcony was the smoking parlor. There was a beat-up leather couch, a coffee table and another small table with five or six chairs. A ventilator above a pad-locked fridge hummed quietly as it filtered out the cigarette smoke. It did nothing to eliminate the odor of tar and nicotine, but it was a cozy place where the outcast smoker could enjoy his or her habit.
After my exploration of the hostel I headed out in search of food. I just grabbed some fast food and wolfed it down. I then headed to the liquor store and bought a six pack of beer. It was quite convenient as it was only about twenty feet from the hostel. I went back to my room, got some fresh clothes and toiletries and headed for the showers. As I walked down the corridor a very cute and wet blonde girl stepped out from one of the bathrooms with only a towel wrapped around her. I watched her as she made her way down the hall and into her room. I decided that I was going to like hosteling.
My first experience was many moons ago, well before I met Ophelia in Seattle. A hippy friend of mine related a trip he took to Seattle and of the hostel he took shelter in. I had never heard of hosteling and it all sounded so exciting to me. I was unemployed at the time and the thought of pounding the pavement in search of a meaningless job was not my idea of fun. I had some money saved up so I forgot about looking for a shitty job and decided to take the same trip my friend had taken. There was a travel company that had some buses and a couple of hostels that offered folks cheap adventures and lodgings. It was run by some old hippies and as it happened, they had a route from Orange County to Seattle. I booked passage on this trip and departed one Sunday afternoon on a converted ‘70’s era school bus. I really had no idea on what to expect and a part of me struggled with thoughts of whether or not I was doing the right thing. I was quite nervous and unsure. Many of the passengers were a new generation of hippies sprinkled with an assorted lot of Europeans. Hippies are cool, but I found that I can only take them in small doses. I really felt out of place, but I settled in for the two day ride to the Emerald city. The bus stopped in L.A. and Santa Monica at a couple of hostels to pick-up more travelers, a few of whom were very attractive European gals. At that point I realized that I was going to enjoy this communal trip. The bus continued north and here and there it would stop to pick-up more people until we were packed-in like sardines. As night came, we all jockeyed for a place to sleep. The rear of the bus was actually one large bed that twenty or so people could lay out somewhat comfortably. The tables and seats on each side and center of the bus converted into beds and the luggage racks served as bunks as well. I found a spot on the large bed in the rear and it was quite comfortable despite being sandwiched between complete strangers and the hum of the tires on pavement eventually soothed me to sleep.
We arrived in San Francisco early the next morning at one of the hostels owned by this adventure company. We had the opportunity to use the showers at the hostel for two bucks, but I did not take advantage of it as I was clean, but some of the other passengers sure as hell needed one. It was my first time in a hostel and I was a bit nervous about it. There were so many hippies there and I felt completely out of place. One could smell the stoneage everywhere and as much as I wanted to spark-up, I decided instead to wander the streets of San Francisco with a group from the bus. We had all day as the bus wouldn’t depart until eight that evening. I was with a group that consisted of three Americans and a gal from Great Britain. We strolled along the streets just going where our feet would take us. I felt free, but a part of me still felt as if I were doing something irresponsible. My mind was so preoccupied with thoughts of what I should be doing (looking for work) that it made it very difficult to concentrate on all the wonderful sights of the city. I promised myself that as soon as I returned home I would immediately find a job; any job just so I could placate that little fucker in my head and then I could enjoy this little freedom.
That promise had certainly helped in the matter and I was able to open myself up to the beauty of the city as well as to my fellow travelers. Almost immediately the sense of culture shock came over me. It was hard to believe as I am from the same state, but the people were very different from folks back home. Everyone was friendly and helpful and they would take the time to give us directions to the various sites. People back home would never even make eye contact as you passed them on the street. The folks of San Francisco were definitely more affable than those from Orange and L.A. counties.
We got back to the bus around eight that evening and all the beds were already set up. I hurried to get one of the beds underneath one of the tables at the center of the bus. It was like a little cave with a small curtain that could be drawn for privacy. These were reserved for couples only and the bus driver reminded me of that, but at that moment the English gal stepped aboard and I motioned to her that I had this sought after spot. To my surprise she was fine with sharing this cozy cubby with me. My intentions were not at all sexual as she was a bit plump and homely and I would have needed at least five shots of something potent to find her somewhat attractive. I just didn’t want to sleep in the rear with mostly guys surrounding me.
I didn’t sleep well at all actually. At first it was my thoughts that kept me up. My heart raced as I pondered the girl’s thoughts and motives. I wondered if she expected me to make a move and I lay there contemplating whether or not to as it had been a long time since I had any sexual encounter with a gal and now there was one lying next to me. Thoughts of sex soon dissipated as the temperature dropped. The horse blanket lined Levi jacket that I had brought was my only protection from the cold. I curled up as best I could in this tight quarter, shivering away most of the night. She was zipped-up completely in her sleeping bag like a cocoon and I wanted to cuddle just for warmth. I managed to sleep some until we arrived somewhere in the woods of Oregon.
The debut of this blog may have been premature. I realize that it is going to be difficult to fill blog posts with interesting accounts of our progress toward our goal of initiating the hostel environment experiment since everything has been done. All has either been sold, given away or stored. The condo is spic and span. The much needed credit cards for the trip have been paid so they can be utilized again. Our packs are half-packed and ready for the rest of the necessities we will need on the trip. And our airline tickets have been purchased which is a miracle; a Christmas gift from Ophelia’s parents. Now we are just waiting until Ophelia is laid-off and the auction of the condo takes place which should occur around the same time. We must also wait for the buyer to offer the incentive check which will help in our endeavor. Cash for keys is what they call it and I hope it comes through before our departure date arrives. The tickets that Ophelia’s parents bought us are open-ended so we can return whenever we like, but we must leave on the date and time specified and I fear that we may be cutting it close. Regardless of that, I am still grateful for their generosity. I have a suspicion that it is just their attempt at facilitating the dissolution of Ophelia and I’s engagement, but I am going to be naïve and believe they did it out of the kindness of their hearts. I’d rather not be cynical or negative at a time when things are finally going our way. I don’t want to jinx it by thinking or feeling pessimistically. It’s a new year and I want to wash away all the negativity from my soul and replenish it with only thoughts and feelings of optimism. I know my new found philosophy will be tested on the morning of the auction, but I will remain steadfast. I may waver a bit when the notice to surrender and vacate the property arrives as it will be final confirmation that we have truly lost our home, but my resolution to be nothing but positive will prevail.
Now I will relate my first journey and hostel experience. If at the end of this tale I find that we are still awaiting departure, I will add journal entries from my past travels in the hope that you remain a follower of my blog. Thank you for your loyalty and patience.
The condo and garage are looking more and more bare as we have sold off quite a bit of our stuff. The more sentimental and personal things have been boxed for storage with friends and the things that we cannot sell will be given to charity. It is Christmas after all. Speaking of Christmas, Ophelia has left for the week to spend the holidays with her family in Montana and as soon as I am done sorting out a few things here, I will be off to a friend’s house. I couldn’t very well spend an entire week with Ophelia’s parents. They dislike me quite a bit and my voting for Obama and gay marriage has certainly increased their hatred of me. Speaking of the gay issue…let me make it clear on how I feel about it as a staunch heterosexual. . I can care less about a persons’ sexual orientation. It’s none of my business and although I voted for it, that measure never should have been on the ballot in the first place. That was unconstitutional in of itself. Gays have the same rights as everyone else and when we initiate a measure that could deny folks of their inalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness and we allow it to be put to the vote we become un-American and traitors to the Republic in the process. The pursuit of happiness is one of the fundamental ideals that America was founded on and we cannot allow it to be infringed upon by those with fears and prejudices. Yes I have heard all the propaganda on the matter: it goes against the laws of nature, God considers it a sin, gays raising a child together would invariably make that kid gay. All bullshit! It does not go against the laws of nature. It is the norm actually; every creature on this planet, whether mammal, reptile, amphibian or bird has practiced “homosexuality” at one time or another. Even many species of flora are known to do so as well. As for God declaring it a sin, well I say that’s a load of crap too. God never declared that, but we have been taught to believe so from the teachings in the Bible. God did not author the Bible. Men who had their own fears, hatreds and prejudices wrote it. The Bible is tainted by the words and ideas of ignorant men and it cannot be used to deny folks of their rights. Freedom of religion does not trump one’s right to life and happiness and vice versa. God loves us all and only looks at what is in our hearts. He wants us to take care of one another. He wants us to be happy with ourselves, our lives and enjoy all he has given us. That brings joy to Him. And we all know that gayness is not an infectious disease that can be transmitted to others. You are either born gay or straight or bisexual or whatever. Environment has nothing to do with it. I believe that those who have a problem with gay folks are those that are uncomfortable with their own sexuality. They tend to be gay and hate themselves for it and thus lash out at those who remind them of who they truly are. I say get over it and live and let live. Furthermore, denying folks from marrying the one they love just because you don’t know how to explain homosexuality to your kids is just ridiculous. If you can’t talk to your kids about this stuff then maybe you’re a crappy parent and should be sterilized. Anyway, that’s my point of view on the subject and Ophelia’s parents do not like it one bit. I can care less of their opinion of me and I am not going to waste my time listening to bigots. Life is too short to entertain the sanctimonious ramblings of the ignorant and intolerant. My family is no different. After my mother passed away, my relationship with her side of the family became non-existent. I am an outcast as I am a gringo who looks more Jewish than Mexican and my Spanish is atrocious, at least they believe it is. Plus my conversion to Buddhism from Catholicism really shook things up with the family. My mom was a devout Catholic and I was raised as such and I was always forced to go to church every Sunday. My dad had no religious affiliations even though he was of Jewish descent. I never knew what he really believed as he never spoke of God or anything spiritual for that matter. He just hid himself in books and booze. My guess is that he had lost his faith sometime during the war. He must have done or seen something on the battlefield to cause him to question God’s plan. Alcohol was his only means of coping with it and it finally took his life in my first year of high school.
I tend to celebrate Christmas anyway because I do believe in goodwill and hope and kindness and all the other good things that the season brings out in folks. I have long since abandoned Buddhism as I no longer wanted to be affiliated with any religion. There are many tenets of the various faiths that I agree with, but I just don’t want to attach myself to any religious organization that more often than not, discriminates against those who do not share in their respective views. Organized religions cannot be trusted. They tend to warp God into an entity that suits their beliefs, fears and prejudices. These alliances have been the cause of most of the conflicts in the history of mankind. The true meaning of God has been lost on them as each religion believes that their way of worship is the one and only way in which to honor Him. I don’t need a religion to tell me how or when to worship. That is between the Almighty and me. God, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah, the Holy Spirit or whatever name you wish to call Him or Her is one thing only and that is Love. God is Love, period!
Christmas is only a few weeks away and Ophelia and I have managed to sell off a few things. Ebay and Craigslist are our main avenues of selling, but this economic climate has made it difficult to catch a fair price for our stuff. It seems as if everyone is selling and very few are buying. Those that are buying are making a killing. I am not bitter about that though as this whole ordeal has given me a new perspective on life. This recession or more accurately, depression, has taught me that material possessions do not make one successful, happy and whole. I have spent the last few years foolishly believing that acquiring material things fulfilled me in some way or another. I had basically given up on my dreams by laboring at a job I had never really enjoyed just to accumulate more crap and have an overpriced one-bedroom condo to keep it all in. My possessions had possessed me and now I can admit that fact and start anew by letting go of it all. If it wasn’t for this trip I think I would just give all this crap away. There are those who are in far worse shape than Ophelia and I and it would fill my heart with joy to donate it all. Christmas time tends to make me want to extend a helping hand to those in need, but I do want to take this trip and I must be selfish in order to make it happen. It is a shot at freedom for the both of us, a freedom that will give us each a better sense of self and purpose. That is my hope as I want both of us to find out who we are before committing to marriage. I do not want to marry someone just for the sake of doing what everyone perceives as the natural order of things and I do not want to settle for a life that does not fulfill me. I had settled for a mundane life though and had put my dreams on hold for a woman and a salary. I do love Ophelia, but the beliefs we have about what is important in life differs considerably. My hope is that we both find an answer that will make us truly happy and content no matter if it means an end to our relationship or not.
I once believed I had a handle on that, but somewhere along the line I let go. I compromised is what I did. I let my dreams slip wayside as my duties and pay increased. I had never planned on being an engine rebuilder when I took the job as a parts driver. I had no interest in horsepower or torque and I certainly had no interest in wrenching-it for the rest of my life. I took the job as I was broke and all I wanted to do was earn enough money to hit the road again. I moved up quickly in the company though and it wasn’t long before I settled on just traveling for two weeks a year. The extra pay did allow me to attend some literature and art classes at the local college and I was happy with all that for a little while.
It has been quite some time since I felt good about anything. The last couple of years have been a struggle for Ophelia and I and this trip is something we desperately need in order to preserve our sanity and keep us from hating one another. It has just about come to that point. I am very surprised that we made it this far without killing each other, but I believe the auction notice could have been the last straw if it hadn’t been for that Freudian slip of mine. I am grateful that Ophelia took a liking to this hostel environment experiment. Although my motives for this trip are purely self-serving, I really do believe that Ophelia will benefit greatly from this experience. Both of us will and for once in a long while, I feel good and hopeful of the future. I met Ophelia about seven years ago in a pub in Seattle. I was there on vacation with some friends as was she. The remarkable thing about that was the fact that the both of us resided in Orange County. We had a wonderful romance in the Emerald city and decided to see each other on a regular basis when we returned home. We dated a bit before getting engaged and eventually we bought a little condo together. I wish I could say that all had been perfect like a fairytale come true, but we had our share of fights and spats over ridiculous things like so many other couples tend to have and we went about our lives relatively happy. Then the economy took a shit and everything became a struggle and we began to rip each other apart at every turn.
Work had fallen off for the both of us and I was eventually let go since no one was really buying rebuilt engines anymore or anything else for that matter. Ophelia saw a cut in her pay and hours and it is just a matter of time before she is let go as well. The repossession of our vehicles, the mounting debt, the looming foreclosure and my inability to find work have all added to our stress and has strained our relationship beyond measure. The fights between us have grown exponentially over our plight and the appearance of the auction notice could have sent us over the edge if it hadn’t been for the introduction of the hostel environment experiment; an experiment that gave us a moment of hope and peace as we sat down to outline all the aspects of this trip to make it a reality.
Making some money is our top priority of course. I have a little saved up from my unemployment benefits as I had stopped paying the mortgage and the homeowners’ association dues. We had gotten behind with them and our credit cards and the late charges and fees had all mounted up so quickly that it made it impossible to catch up. When we lost our vehicles we had to pay cash for a used one; cash that was intended for the mortgage or HOA dues or credit card bills and something more pressing was always popping up to divert money away from those bills that needed to be paid. A new water heater was needed at one point and had to be paid for in cash as our cards were maxed out. The rising gas prices had also caused us to miss payments which in turn added more fees and late charges to an already bloated debt. So I stopped making some payments as it was stupid to pay for something that we will eventually lose.
The savings that I have will barely get one of us a round trip airline ticket and of course we need two as well as enough money to roam Europe for at least six weeks. Ophelia and I began by taking inventory of all the stuff that we could sell in order to pay for the trip. Most of it is crap that at one point we believed was important as it gave us the illusion that we were successful and well put together. I am as much to blame for the accumulation of these material things as I wanted to feel successful and I wanted others to see and think that about me as well. I had gotten caught up in the acquisition of things that really didn’t matter to me. I was a grease monkey and the only things I really needed to make me happy were hot showers, the HD big screen, the Wii, my recliner and a steady supply of dubeage. I could care less for the crystal stemware, espresso machine, furniture wine racks, goose-down pillows and comforter or the myriad of other crap that Ophelia and I constantly bought and brought home.
It is nice to have nice things, but it made me lose track of myself and the things that really mattered in this world. I can understand Ophelia’s perspective as she was raised quite differently than me. Her parents are wealthy and she is used to having the finer things in life. Of course they are very tight with their money and give her almost zero financial support. It is for her benefit though. Her father wanted to teach her a thing or two about self-reliance. I could agree with that logic, but it is my belief that the man is just a prick and has never approved of her decisions, especially hooking up with this blue-collar Mexican Jew. I believe that her parents are hoping that this mess we find ourselves in will mean the end of our relationship. That is why they haven’t offered any support in our time of need.
The creation of this blog is just one of many acts of a selfish man. This must be distinctly understood as I am that selfish soul and nothing good can come of this if I were not honest with you or myself. It all began a few nights ago when my fiancée Ophelia and I were about to eat another Ramen noodle dinner. We had gotten into yet another argument over our financial situation earlier that evening and we had just started to calm our nerves when a knock on the door roused our already anxious state. A knock on the door is a dreadful sound when one is in debt. We had stood frozen; awaiting the second rap to compel us to move, but all had remained silent until Ophelia finally exclaimed, “Oh for fuck’s sake,” as she moved to the front door of our little condo. Taped to the door was a notice announcing the details of an auction that involved our home. This of course was cause for another argument. Frustration and despair had gotten the better of me and in the middle of this heated yelling match I let slip the dream of leaving everything behind for the open road. Ophelia’s rage intensified with that outburst of mine and the only recourse I had in alleviating her agitated state and our situation was to include her in my dream of traveling somewhere far, far away. Now I stated before that I am a selfish man and I wanted that fact to be understood completely for it is I who inadvertently put forth the idea of abandoning all for the road and it is I who formulated the rules governing this idea and it is also I who convinced my fiancée to agree upon its implementation. I must now explain this idea and the rules that Ophelia and I have agreed to follow and how all this really serves me and my interests. The idea or plan is for us to travel to London together where we will separate and forge our own paths in order to re-evaluate our relationship and our lives in general. One might call this a test of our relationship and I would agree, but it is more than that. Ophelia and I have already gone through some rough times due to the failing economy and that would have been enough to test any relationship, but we also need some time apart in a new environment to rid ourselves of all the stress and anxiety and fighting that threatens our future together. Funding for this experiment will be limited obviously, so our accommodations will be restricted to youth hostels. We do hope to have enough dough saved up to travel around Europe for at least six weeks and as the rules stipulate, we cannot contact one another for the duration of the trip, unless of course it is a matter of life and death.
So how does all this serve me? For one, I get the chance to indulge in my desire to travel, second, I get the chance to pause a moment to re-examine my life and relationship with Ophelia and thirdly, I get the chance to write about it. Writing and traveling are my passions in life and this trip will give me the opportunity to combine the two to fulfill my aspirations of being an itinerant novelist. Not to mention my desire to share the emotional ups and downs I will certainly face on the road as I contemplate my relationship with Ophelia and an unknown future. These are the reasons behind the creation of this blog. It is simply my attempt at revitalizing my passions by documenting this experiment in “real time” via this blog and other social networking sites. It is my intent to be truthful about all that I do and see and feel and think in order to provide the reader with an honest account of my travels and the hostel environment. I will be documenting this endeavor without Ophelia’s knowledge and I know there are those of you out there who believe this to be foolish as she is sure to catch wind of it, but it is a risk I am willing to take.
