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Instagram photo by whatdevondiscoveredLITTLE FINLAND Some girl came home drunk in the middle of the night. She crashed into our 8-person dorm room, turned on the light over her bed and passed out. The hostel I was booked in was called something like BOUNCE. I should have known better. It was a straight up college dorm with fewer rules. My grown, sick, tired, thirty-five-year-old ass could not take it. Even though my body felt like it might give out at any second, I hoisted my 40-pound pack on my back and limped across town, to a place my friend said was much better. I booked myself into a quad, which was as close to a private room as I could afford in pricey Sydney. When I opened the door to my room, my heart sank and tears burst from my eyes. It was small hot messy and smelled like a bucket of dirty gym towels. It was clear someone had been squatting in the place for months. BOUNCE looked like paradise in comparison. Again I was left to wonder why I felt the need to march myself around the world alone. I jumped into the top f*ucking bunk and passed out with my clothes on. The next morning, I heard a rustle all around the room- whispers, the bathroom door, and a flash of tennis rackets? When I woke up again fresh from a fevered delirium, I met my roommates. They were three guys from Finland. One had been living in the room for two years. The other two had come to visit and play tennis every day, which explained the smell. Nordic people have a reputation for being kind and friendly and these guys turned out to be the perfect ambassadors. They had that easy masculine energy of guys who had been friends for a long time and somehow it balanced out my adrenaline blitzed psyche. Once again the trip had given me exactly what I needed in the most unexpected way. From then on we called the room Little Finland and allowed its vibe to chill me out as an honorary Fin. Where was your worst hotel experience? Did it get turned around somehow? Swipe left and let me know what you think of the room.

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