It is in a place called Tulse Hill, aka, randomness. Via train, it's about 15 minutes from London Bridge, and via bus/tube, it's around a 45 minute trip into the city.
The tavern is pretty nice, and behind it is a large deck and garden with seating. At night, though, loud music and alcohol flows.
My first night I met a three people from Indiana--a girl, her mom, and her friend. The younger girls had been in a program in London that just finished and her mom came to embark on a mini European tour with them for two weeks. The girl was actually an author and won a writing contest to have a young adult book published. The book was one in a series and now her family self-publishes them.
Her website: www.keegansjourney.com
Pretty cool, right?
The day I checked in I was warned that Saturday night there would be a large party-but not to worry, every hosteler would receive two free drink tickets.
Well.
Saturday night me and two fellow hostelers arrived 'home' around 11:30 and were not allowed inside the tavern.
The street in front of the tavern was packed with people trying to get in, and three security guards were on the entrances. One of the guards was getting stoned with a kid, so he wasn't much help.
Eventually, after waving our keys around and proving how adamant we could be, we were allowed to enter through the back alley, which meant climbing over and around trash in the dark and pushing open the garden gate. That was interesting.
Around 200 people were at the party, which had a live band and a DJ, and it was completely packed inside. We voyaged upstairs to the hostel where, apparently, the Private Entry Only signs had deterred few.
Random drunk people were in the bathroom (there are three toilets, each in a tiny room with a door) at all hours of the night, some venturing in the toilets together... and off the bathroom hall, there was the Un-official Place to Get High.
The floor vibrated. People were still partying at 4 in the morning.
Yeah. It was interesting.
Crazy part? I slept. Totally by the grace of God. Woke feeling rested and calm.
Two poor girls had arrived that night to check into the hostel, and the owner of the bar kept leaving them upstairs with, "Can you give me just 10 minutes?" as he wandered off jerkily, flowered lei swinging around his neck. The next morning I explained to them that usually there aren't beer bottles on the bathroom sink.
And that's my hostel!
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