The Hostel of the Stupid

Hola chicas! Buenos tardes, mis amigos! Cuanto esta? Gracias! Donde esta el bano?

There you have just about the limits of my Spanish (and I suspect that some of it may really be Italian), but thanks to the friendly people of Merida, it is sufficient to get me through a week in Mexico.

I travelled to meet a friend there, and after the first night, we left our expensive but bland hotel with unhelpful concierge for a picturesque hostel with an unpredictable hot water system, but totally charming hosts Linda and Florian who, as far as I can tell, spend their days eagerly waiting for us to return and wondering how to make us happier. Linda is a petite blonde, who said "welcome home" when we arrived, later said eagerly, "I want to show you something," and proudly led me to the beautiful open balcony above the square, and was thrilled when I told her we liked the hostel better than our hotel. Florian is skinny, blond, and be-pierced, and booked us three tours for roughly the price of one from the hotel, offered us spaghetti for dinner, and excitedly met us as we came back from our tour to hear about it. They nearly trampled each other to get a map when we asked where to buy a certain item in merida and sent us off with instructions on what to look for and to "negotiate!"

Sadly, though charming, it is clearly the hostel where stupid people end up. Both TLC and I forgot to a) charge our cameras and b) bring chargers. Because, you know, we're going to see one of the wonders of the world, so camera phones will cover that, right? There was no help for us. Florian just lost his charger, and one of the other tourists forgot his camera altogether.

It seems that there are constantly fiestas in Merida, which is great, except when you’re dropping off to sleep next door. TLC and I started giggling one night when we turned out our lights and immediately loud music and shouting broke out. As I said, on the bright side, the motorbikes and taxis almost drowned it out.


A few pics of our home in the city.