On the bus to Ushuaia, the southern most city in the world, I was wondering what to write about for this week´s installment. Of course a lot had happened, but no particular incident jumped out at me.
I really should now better by now. The ´End of the World´…the start of the drama.
When I arrived at Los Lupinos hostal, I was actually quite impressed. It was the cheapest around, apparently the only one which hadn´t been fully booked for the night, and no steps tothe entrance was a rare bonus.
Little did I know…
The owner is an older Asian-looking guy, and immediately he looks rattled.
“No, sorry, the beds are upstairs…it`s not possible.”
“Yes, it`s fine,” I explain, going past him, “I can walk upstairs.”
And here is where I thought the petty dialogue would end. On the contrary, his mouth was just getting prepared in the starting blocks, and was about to start running…
“No, it´s not fine…for security…for health and safet-“
Hooooold up. Re – e – wind. Did I just hear the words “health and safety”? Am I in England?!?
“Look, I´ve walked up Macchu Picchu, this really isn´t a problem for-” (this normally works…”
“Yes! It´s a problem for us!” Blah blah blah. Man he went on…comes like broken 50s record.
And believe me it went on for a while. You know I don´t take no bullshit…but nothing could change his mind. He was not giving me a bed. At all.
At one point, I even got as far as writing down my details on the signing-in sheet. But no money, or more importantly room keys, passed hands.
There were other people arguing my case and everything.
But whatever case was put forward, nothing was changing. Man needs to take a leaf from Barack´s book.
But fine, I thought, I´m just going to sit here and use the Internet, do some writing, do something constructive, and wait for them to change their mind…because they will change their mind!
Oh my days… a younger guy from reception is bounding out quicker than you can say “getmeafuckingbedblud”…
“No, sorry, this is only for people staying here,”
Slipping… now its war…
He puts his hand on the mouse but I´ve already clicked on the gmail link and now I´m onto typing in my details and clicking enter…
“Now its logging in, I´ve got to quickly check my emails,”
I try to ignore him but he´s not moving… it seems that here at LOS LUPINOS HOSTEL (remember that name Lonely Planet authors) it´s more important to enforce discrimination than to man the reception!
There´s an email from my mum so I begin to reply…
“No sorry, you said you were only checking, it´s only for people staying here.”
I actually can… not… believe… this is happening, but I retain my dignity, I´m not stooping to this wasteman´s level…
At this point, “outraged” would be a severe understatement.
Also, it´s hard to recreate through words the length of time this whole incident was spanning, but I can tell you it was a lot.
And to cut a long story short…
They wouldn´t give me a bed, so I slept on the couch in the reception area…for free.
I woke up and ate all their breakfast… for free, and took a drink from the fridge without paying for it.
And now I´m sitting on their computer, using their Internet, and they are getting expoooooosed!
On the night I left London, Fifi said to me…
“Be the next Che Guevara.”
And I think I´m doing her proud.