Introduction to the Hostel

These are a jumble of pictures that I've taken in the past couple of days. Enjoy.

So, when we left our faithful Loftstel we were in the Petworth area, which is not enjoying prosperous economic growth. Most of the restaurants in the area looked like they hadn't opened their shutters for many moons. This one in particular is blatantly plagarizing Chik-fil-A.

The Metro stations here are all crazy far underground. This one looks like the escalator to heaven. It's not even the deepest - the Forest Glen stop holds that honor. It's 21 stories below ground level and apparently you take six high-speed escalators (!) and a one-way trip takes only 20 seconds. I think this calls for a field trip to Forest Glen.

The street coming off of the Metro stop. There's a Baskin Robbins, and I love the smell. It reminds me of childhood.





I thought this was so funny - a liquor store named Sherry's. No one else seems to think so. Mom said that this joke was 'weak, at best'.




Where am I? Well, I'm on the right side of 18th street, at around the row of three pink houses.








All right, getting into my neighborhood. These are the kind of townhouses around the area.






More of the houses on the streets. It's about a fifteen minute walk from the Metro station to my hostel.








Hee, pigeon on a statue.










OH MY GOD THE BIRDS ARE TAKING OVER!!! RUN FOR IT!!! EAT MORE FRIED PIGEON!!!






Here's the street that my hostel is on. Lots of pizza and ethnic eateries.






Outside of my hostel in the morning, looking right.







Looking to the left.








Looking back towards the hostel, the Grand Central is on the right.







The Diner is on the left. It's easy to spy on people eating.







The hostel itself is a bit tucked away.











What, you couldn't see the sign? Get some glasses!







Lots of people don't like the steps when they arrive all bedraggled and with heavy suitcases. I live on the third floor.









The tiling is neat-o.








I call this the foyer. I receive all of my guests here. Also, my shirts and pants are in the second and third drawers in the chest of drawers.








I like the candleholders.








I feel like I'm in prison.











Welcome, welcome. It's the most cramped dorm room in the world.










I have the white-trash towel hanging out to dry on my bunk.







Oh, here's the bathroom. The shower, as I've said before, is faultless. It's that window that bothers me.









Eek. Even though the window doesn't show anything but a large vent that leads up to the roof, I always get really nervous thinking that somewhere, somehow, someone could peep through. We should get some blinds.



All right, back downstairs. This hostel is a patron of the arts.










This really big TV is the most important part of the lounge area. We all watched a combination of the primaries and American Idol last night, but usually it's something sporty.




It's right across from Steve's desk, where I am currently sitting because he doesn't like to get up early and Antonio, the guy that works here during the day, couldn't make it today.




Directions to most of the touristy things in DC. Now available in English, French, Korean, Dutch, and Chinese!





But who needs to actually see all of those attractions when you could just stay in the hostel and watch the pretty slideshow on the internet machine?







Ironically, we have no Pepsi beverages in the machine. All Coke, all the time.










If you use this phone, a mystery man across the street will tell you not to hang up, because he's holding your wife and kids hostage and you must do exactly as he says. Then, you inadvertently touch a gun taped to the bottom of the phone. After that, the cops show up and your life spirals down into chaos. Just don't use it.


This is the view from the lounge. Sweet.







The kitchen isn't going to win any features in Good Housekeeping but the fridge works and there's a (small) breakfast every morning.