At this point, I’ve spent about eight months of the last two years living in hostels and have definitely seen the good, the bad, and the ugly side of hostel life. If you’re planning your first trip, here’s what to look out for in order to pick a hostel and have a good experience:

Pay attention to the hostel’s ‘ambience’ and ‘safety’ ratings.

The vibe of the hostel is important, especially when you’re traveling on your own. Try to look for places with nice common areas or bars, so you have a space to meet other travelers. Hostels that organize group events or have community breakfasts or dinners are great because it’s a built-in way to meet other people and create a group of people to go out adventuring with.

If you can, try to avoid properties that are half hostel, half hotel. These places cater more to families and business travelers, and the vibe is much different than that of a property that caters specifically to the young, backpacker crowd. These places are typically much less social, which can make for a lonely stay if there aren’t any people around for you to mingle with.

Also, this is pretty self-explanatory, but check out the safety ratings. This will cover things like whether the property is located in a good part of town, whether there’s a secure place to lock your belongings inside your room, if the keys and locks work, or if the building and surrounding area well-lit, or whether there are people hanging around the property who aren’t guests of the hostel, etc.

Pick a hostel that is close to the attractions and has a 24-hour reception.

If you know you’re going to want to go out at night, look for a place closer to the city’s nightlife so you don’t have to travel as far in the dark in the event that you end up having to be out alone. You can minimize your time spent on public transit doing so, and you won’t have to take as many cabs (so you can avoid being ripped off) and you won’t have as far to walk if that’s something you’re concerned about. Obviously, use your judgement and take the same precautions you would at home, and you’ll be fine.

24-hour reception is important if you know you’ll be arriving late. You don’t want to show up after the reception has closed and not be able to check in. Also, if there’s an emergency and you need something in the middle of the night, the hostel reception is going to be your first point of contact because they know the area and how to get you the services that you need (like pointing you to the hospital where you’re more likely to find English-speaking doctors at 4am).

Female-only dorms (maybe).

I have mixed feelings about staying in female dorms because I’ve had good and bad experiences with both (big surprise: people suck regardless of gender). You never know who you’re going to get as roommates, and my good experiences have by far outweighed the bad. The only difference is that so far, I haven’t (yet, thankfully) been fearful for my safety in a female dorm. I have two big pieces of advice on this one:

1. Read the reviews carefully.

If the reviews give you a sense that the hostel only really cares about their bottom line and just wants to fill beds, it might not be somewhere you want to stay, for a variety of reasons, but if it’s the only option available, you may want to consider booking a female-only dorm. You might just end up in a 12-bed dorm with an 11-person stag party, who stumbled back in at 4am and didn’t realize that they do not actually have the room to themselves (first the obnoxious drunkenness, then the snoring, yikes). Needless to say, I dragged my blanket downstairs to sleep in the bar, checked out as soon as I could, and left the property a delightful review for 1. letting that happen to me in the first place, and 2. not informing me or giving me another choice of room.

2. Pay attention to whether or not you’ll be traveling in peak season.

If there’s an issue with your roommates, the hostel will likely let you change rooms if they have the space available, although they might charge you a fee (worth it for the peace of mind if you’re the only woman in the room with some creeper neighbors). If it’s fully booked, you might be out of luck (hopefully they’ll help sort you out but it’s possible they may not).

Read the reviews, but use your judgment.

You can generally get a good sense of the place from what previous guests have written, and how many people have left reviews. Keep in mind that the quality of reviews may vary from place to place, so always take them with a grain of salt. For example, a lot of people who don’t typically stay in hostels travel to places like Amsterdam to party, but then complain about things like the fact that a 200-year old building doesn’t have an elevator and you had to walk up four flights of stairs with a heavy suitcase.

If you’re traveling solo, I’d always advocate for staying in hostels, because they’re great for so many reasons. If it’s your first time and you’re nervous, just be careful and deliberate with when you pick a hostel and, above all, use your best judgment and you’ll be sure to end up having a wonderful trip (or at the very least come out with a lot of interesting stories).

Suggested next reading: Why I Travel Alone (And Why You Should Too)

The post How To Pick A Hostel Like A Solo Female Traveler Expert appeared first on Modern Trekker.

My friend Carmella and I were road tripping through the Southwest, starting in Los Angeles and making our way through Arizona and New Mexico, then looping back around to California. We were in our mid-twenties and had never felt more free, each of us taking our first real grown-up vacation.

We rented a tiny car, threw our bags in the back, stocked up on baby carrots and gallons of water, and struck out on our own. We were elated. We talked nonstop. We left the smog of L.A. behind us, headed east, and arrived in Joshua Tree by evening.

Our First Time Staying In Airbnbs

By the bright light of the moon in the massive desert sky, we managed to find our Airbnb—a tiny cabin at the edge of the national park with just one neighbor in sight. We pulled up at 11pm and tiptoed to the door, still unsure of what we were walking into. We were greeted by the kindest woman named Stella, who’d waited up for us.

There was a little bedroom with fluffy towels laid out for us and a wicker basket of toiletries. There was just enough room for the two of us, and we snuggled up in our shared bed, laughing hysterically under the covers until we drifted off to sleep.

I knew we’d made a good choice when I woke in the middle of the night to the sound of coyotes yipping outside our bedroom window. I fell back to sleep marveling at the magic of the desert and woke the next morning to fresh green juice served in wine goblets, alongside stories of Stella’s past life in San Francisco. We were the first names in her pristine guest book, and we left a raving review.

If I thought we’d made a good choice by booking a room with no reviews, I was yet to be surprised at what was in store.

Joshua Tree To Madrid, New Mexico

We left Joshua Tree and eventually made our way to Madrid, New Mexico, a tiny mining town just outside of Santa Fe. Carmella had booked this Airbnb, and I was excited to see what the “eco cabin” in the hills of New Mexico would be like. We arrived and were greeted by the Airbnb manager, Lucy, settling into our cozy cottage with its compost toilet and limited electricity. Colorful prayer flags were strung about and we immediately felt at home.

It wasn’t until later that night, over glasses of wine beside a glowing fire under the full moon, that Lucy and I realized we had a mutual friend.

On the other side of the country in a remote Southwest town with a population of 200 people, I’d found a connection. We stayed up late into the night talking about synchronicity and human connection. What were the odds?

That trip ended up being one of those vacations where everything just works out. We ended up staying in Airbnbs a total of four different times and left all but one feeling like we were good friends with the owners. They were complete strangers. Welcoming other complete strangers into their homes. Literally opening their doors and hearts to the belief that people can be kind.

A Life Of Travel

As I continued a life of travel following that trip, I learned that this would be more common than not in all of my experiences of staying in Airbnbs. I’ve stayed in Airbnbs all over the world—rambling farmhouses in Maine, cozy cottages in rugged Tasmania, mountain suburbs in Ojai. Sometimes solo, sometimes not—but always with the faith that people are good at heart. (And of course, most of these were private rooms in a home, rather than an entire home independent from the owners—I always find that I like it better when hosts are around.)

Four years after my initial Airbnb stay in Joshua Tree, I found myself in a 1900s clapboard house in the Blue Mountains of Australia, a fantastic region filled with eucalyptus forests and stunning cliffs and roaring waterfalls. I was with a friend who’d never stayed in Airbnbs before, a friend who was a bit reluctant to reserve a room in a stranger’s house with nothing but hope, faith, and a few reviews.

The owner, a sweet woman in her fifties, invited us in and explained how she found herself there—escaping city life in Sydney at the discovery of a troubling illness, settling into the mountains for fresh air, art therapy, and recovery. I spotted my favorite artist’s work on her fridge, and she’d left us hot water bottles at the end of our beds for the chilly autumn night. In her kitchen hung a giant chalkboard upon which she’d jotted affirmations and quotes, and we got lost exploring her bookshelves filled with tomes on lucid dreaming and homesteading.

She was out of the house the next morning when we checked out with our backpacks in tow, and when we realized we’d accidentally left a cell phone behind, she was suddenly pulling up alongside us in her car, encouraging us to get in so she could give us a lift back to get it.

Complete strangers from countries other than her own. Trusting us in her home without her. We could have been the ax murderers.

My friend was shocked at how Airbnb worked. “She doesn’t mind that we’re here without her?” she said incredulously. “Are all hosts this nice? Is this always how it goes?”

(Of course, it doesn’t always go exactly like this. Not every single Airbnb host is kind and welcoming and goes out of their way to make you feel at home. But with a little awareness and intuition when you’re booking, you can find gold. And more often than not, it’s worth it.)

Conclusion

Now, I always prefer to peruse Airbnb before turning to a hotel or hostel. I love not knowing what I’ll find or who I’ll meet. When you can be open to it, there are stories to be heard, kindnesses to be gifted, meals to be shared, neighborhoods to be explored, friends to be made. I’m still in touch with some of my past hosts, and even just a connection over Instagram feels incredibly heartwarming to me.

Because in a world that feels increasingly scary and unsafe, there’s this: the unfailing hope and belief that people are intrinsically good — and that we have more in common than we think.

Note: I want to acknowledge that as a white American female, I carry a certain privilege that not everyone is granted, and others’ experiences of strangers’ kindness may not be the same as mine.

Suggested next reading: Why I Travel Alone (And Why You Should Too)

The post How Staying In Airbnbs Renews My Faith In Humanity appeared first on Modern Trekker.