Charlotte, North Carolina
December 23, 2004
When we arrived, we were on the fifth floor and had to climb it. Since it was just one night, we took only our luggage we needed and checked in. The room was horrible. It smelled musty and there was not room enough to cuss a cat. We had a tiny bed, a tiny desk, and a TV that did not work. In Europe, you often have to request and pay for a private bathroom, which we did. When I walked into the bathroom I scared my husband with a blood-curling scream. The shower was so nasty, I was afraid to go in! On our way out, I stopped at the front desk, spoke to the manager, and asked for our bathroom to be scrubbed when we returned. When we returned, it hadn’t been touched, and we had to get to the Lion King, so I just had to wash off.
That night, we tried to arrange for pick-up service to get us to the airport the next day and were told it was too late (we found out at the airport that it was a lie). We had a room full of loudmouth girls screaming and giggling all night long near us, and the front desk did squat about it. The next morning, we had the desk to call for a cab. An hour later, I was finally fed up, and went inside and started screaming to the top of my lungs. Finally, a private car came (which was not what we called for). We found out at the airport that this hostel uses this service since the owner’s relatives own the car service. We got to our plane with 10 minutes to spare. Only college students, who don’t mind loud students all night long, might enjoy this. They are a 15-minute hike from the Tube, not just around the corner like they say. You can visit them at
From journal Lovely London in the Fall.