Description:
Obsession

Albuquerque has an obsession with Route 66. The name appears in almost every road sign in town. Why? It may awake nostalgia to a far gone America, hint to the Number of the Beast (in morbid America that may play a role, see Hollywood's output along the last century), or just an attempt to make an easy profit on the many travelers rushing to nearby Santa Fe. Regardless the reason, once in Albuquerque it made sense to spend a night at the hostel of that name, despite the fact that it was surrounded by better - and less expensive - establishments.

Location

Located on Central Road - which in the past was part of Route 66 - the hostel enjoys a superb location near downtown. Many restaurants and the Alvarado Transport Center are accessible by foot.

Setup

The house where the hostel is stands out among the other hotels in the area; those are built around a central parking lot in a typical American fashion, while the hostel occupies an attractive house featuring several arches and a garden. The reception is located next to the entrance, while the kitchen, a library and sitting room, and the dorms are located at the ground floor. Private rooms are upstairs.

Love Song I

"Do you have any single rooms available?" I asked an attractive young woman sitting behind an impressive desk.

"No," she said. In the following minutes, I refused a $20 bed at their dorm and settled for their most expensive room, a double costing $35 (all the hotels surrounding the hostel offered better rooms for $29.99).

She was speaking slowly, but not excessively so. Her accent was superb, thus I assumed she was local and that she didn't suffer of hearing problems; she was not wearing any hearing devices and understood my speech even when she couldn't see my lips. This innocent observation became handy.

"Can I have your ID?" she said; I gave her an American ID. The document – despite being official - didn't state my nationality. Her next question justified my early judgment.

"I did notice your accent, where are you from?" she asked me while typing the ID details in a computer. She didn’t look at me while I answered.

"Israel, I guess you do not hear that accent here very much..."

"Are you Jewish?"

"Excuse me?" I have never heard such a question in the many hotels I have visited; my surprise was complete.

"Are you Jewish?" she repeated without a blink.

"No, I am a Christian." I almost offered her a church member card I got when I was elected to the Lutheran National Assembly in a different country.

"Oh" she said, without further explanations.

I kept quiet.

Feeling the tension, she stood up - I found her taller than expected, her eyes were at same level as mine - and said:

"My name is ___." Was that a clumsy Southwestern attempt to apologize?

"Do you mind my writing a review about your establishment?" I asked.

"What?"

I repeated the question.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't hear very well," she summarized without asking me to repeat the question.

I hope she can read.

Love Song II

"Let me show you around," she said while walking around the desk. Then, she led the way into the structure. She knew I would stay for less than a day since while registering I had mentioned a flight the next day, and yet she laboriously, in her slow and perfect intonation, explained everything - including the dorm rules. We went out a side door and I found myself locked out in the garden.

"If you arrive late, punch here these numbers and you can enter," she said.

Back in the building, she climbed the stairs and showed me my room.

After showing me around (there were two rooms and a bathroom) she stood by the door, waiting.

Did she expect a tip for being rude?

After a while, she left.

The Books

Books were everywhere, in copious amounts in a room next to the communal kitchen, and a few within my room. I couldn't find out if they could be exchanged or purchased, but since I didn't find any book worth the extra weight in my baggage, that was not relevant.

The Kitchen

The kitchen was well equipped and included a big fridge in an adjacent room; it offered good cooking facilities, eggs and margarine were free of further charges. Other items stored there belonged to the guests. There was a filter coffee machine, but I couldn’t bring myself to put an end to the happy colony of fungi growing there. Nearby, I found better dining options.

No Sleeping Bags

Then hostel actually has a conduct guide placed in every room and given as a leaflet at the reception desk.

From "Your Guide to the Route 66 Hostel" (I kept the original phrasing and capitalization):

"

No Sleeping Bags in the Hostel

No intoxication in the Hostel

No Smoking on the grounds (due to state law)

You may have a guest visit in the common areas, but we do not allow local residents to stay at the hostel

"

On Honor

The hostel operates a system of chores. Several of these are described on cards attached to a messages board next to the kitchen. Dorm guests are supposed to pick one chore in the morning and to perform it before 10:30 AM, and then they should give the card at the reception. Performing the chores is imperative for getting back the $5 deposit given at the registration time. Before checking out, dorm guests must return their sheets and towel to the reception.

On their honor system, from their guide:

"Because people abuse the honor system we are faced with having to find a way to encourage people to do their chores, or raise prices so we can hire people to clean for you."

Wouldn't have been simpler to ask the staff at the adjacent hotels how do they manage to do exactly that while charging less?

The Room

My main room included two beds - each one of different size and shape, but both obviously old – and a television with an outdated aerial antenna and no cables. A fan was attached to the ceiling and a heating device was in the corner, but the weather was good and I skipped both of them. An attached room was a kitchen in the far past (its double sink had been disabled) and had a huge closet; this room led to a bathroom with a hot shower. The hot water was excellent; my shower there was the high, and the only positive event of my visit.

Halloween

I visited the establishment just before Halloween; the reception room was fully prepared for that pagan celebration, while the receptionist slow talk and premeditated movements helped to enhance the pseudo-scary environment. Suddenly, my early assumption regarding the linkage of the Number of the Beast with Route 66 seemed more plausible.

Next morning, I flew far away.
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