Home is where the heart is

How do strangers become a part of your family? That's easy, just live with the same people for some time and you'll start to think they are your family. That's what happens when you live in a hostel and it actually happens quite easily. At first we were six persons in the same room, then we got two extra beds for the high season. Every time those extra people arrive we wonder if they'll live with us or if they'll just visit us. Every time they leave we are happy to be six again. I mean, you gotta be friendly and welcoming but sometimes it's nice to be with your own family, and only with them.

Maybe we've made ourselves too comfortable living here. It was this week when I found myself considering living here permanently, working in the ironing shop until I retire and then moving to a Finnish retirement home in Brisbane. Sounds like a plan. We can't really move away anyway because we've accumulated too much stuff. My locker is full of take away plastic cups, free old books from the local library and other salvaged pieces of crap other people threw away. Too troublesome man, to try to find another room.

Sculptures by the sea 

Besides the roommates are nice. We support each other. One of these morning my roommate didn't have bread so I gave him some of mine. The next morning I didn't have salt so he gave me some of his. This is communism that works. If you have a hammer, better know someone who has nails.

Honestly, when we first moved here we didn't like the hostel and hated the area. Living in the entertainment distict didn't do it for us. But then we got used to it. Started to think it's OK to live in the red light district. Then we started to think it's cool, we like it. Now we don't want to move away anymore. Maybe we are not quite right in the head anymore, wanting to share the room with seven other people, accepting non-functioning kitchen, bedbugs and all.