By: Blonde Two
I felt very pleased with myself when I booked my London accommodation, smug even. A central location, a restaurant, a self catering kitchen and all for £26. You guessed it, thanks to the YHA and their DofE discounts, I had a night in the town for a quarter of the price of the other accommodation that I looked at.
I have to say that YHA London Central was a sight for sore Blonde eyes when I had finished getting lost on Thursday evening. At last a place that I understood, friendly staff (very friendly), friendly fellow guests (mostly friendly) and a friendly microwave in which to heat up my dinner.
My bed was comfy and I had a little private bathroom just off the bedroom. At least, it would have been private if it hadn’t been for the fact that I had elected to stay in a shared room and that the shared room was fully occupied with four ladies.
I liked Lady-One immediately because when I arrived, she was sitting up in her top bunk ‘stuffing her face’ (her words not mine). True her umbrella did keep falling of the wardrobe and I (being a generous Blonde) did have to keep putting it back up again; and she did insist on shuffling around on newspaper instead of walking across the floor in her bare feet but on the whole, she seemed fairly normal.
Lady-Two was less appealing, not because she was extraordinarily tall, but because she didn’t appear to be able to speak when greeted. She clearly wasn’t pleased at finding Lady-One and Blonde-Two in her room and didn’t stay very long.
I went to bed at about ten thirty. Early I know for London but I was exhausted and needed to catch a train the next morning. I didn’t expect an uninterrupted night’s sleep and I was right. I didn’t hear Lady-Two come to bed.
Lady-Three arrived aptly at three in the morning. I kept my eyes closed (a lesson I have learnt from jet lag) but I believe that she brought with her forty of the world’s loudest plastic bags. Not only that, she obviously had an urgent need to shuffle through every single one of them. It was dark by then, so in order to complete this impressive (I was not impressed) feat of shuffling, she propped the bathroom door open so that the light shone into the bedroom (the noise of the fan was less than soothing!)
Lady-Two then found her voice (a relief I am sure) and told Lady-Three in no uncertain terms what she thought of bag shuffling and bathroom dooring. There then ensued an argument that I didn’t really understand about radiators and windows, more shuffling, more light turning on, a bed creaking above me and then silence (or as much silence as there ever is in London – where do people drive to at that time of day?)
I dozed off again but not for long because Lady-One arrived back (no doubt from more excessive dining) and did a bit of shuffling of her own before climbing into her bunk.
We then slept – or at least I did. Lady-Two lost her voice again that morning and disappeared fairly early. I got up next and avoided the temptation of extreme noisiness (it was so tempting) because Ladies One and Three were still abed.
I haven’t tried sharing a bunk room with strangers since I was a lass in New Zealand. I am not sure that I am going to do so again. That said, the bunk was comfy, the room very clean and the price was definitely right.
I am sure JK Rowling didn’t ever have to go through a night like that! Roll on famous authorhood and 5 star hotels!