The Stairs

There is one place in the hostel where the Wifi internet, and that is right near the front door and on the steps leading up to the rooms. Every time that I want to check to see if the family is on Skype, or check my email, or update my status on Facebook or my blog I have to take my computer out on the stairs.

Every once in a while, a person will trudge up or down the stairs and I'll have to move my legs out of their way. Or the door at the base of the stairs that leads to the outside will swing open and a gust of cold autumn air will rush up the stairs and I'll make a quick escape to my room for a long sleeved shirt. Or the music from Marco's room, which sits in the corner of the lobby behind the Reception desk, will drift up to my perch and I'll either scramble for my headphones (if its some of his obscure Italian rock) or start singing along (to the Lion King soundtrack).

Marco called it my favorite spot, probably because it is the only place in the main part of the hostel where I'll sit for any length of time. Of course, I'll sit in the kitchen and the common room, but they are in a different building and they have absolutely sh-t internet access (excuse my censored French).

So at least once a day, I pull out my netbook to research Sweden or look at photos of Strand, my brother, in Chile, and sit on the landing of the dark blue carpeted stairs. The seat is uncomfortable, but it digitally connects me.