Sex in Hostels: 12 Backpacking Sex Stories and the Lessons They Teach

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Right, let’s start off with the big topic at hand – sex in dorm rooms! Yay or nay? Maybe a bit of both at the same time? Oh, you are kinky!

Dormitory sex is a contentious point to start with. It is, for the most part, an expected part of the hostel sex scene. It’s also an expected part of buying a packet of chips that you’ll be sold 40% air. That doesn’t make it any less lame, however.

Having sex in a dorm room is not a cut-and-dry subject. Sometimes it’s ok, and sometimes, you’re just being a dick…

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Tale I: Hippy Palaces and Backpacking Sex – Good Vibes Only

This hostel sex story is great cause I got both a guest’s perspective as well as the owner’s! Lemme paint the scene-

A beautiful hippy palace-on-the-mountain in the hill country of Sri Lanka. Psychedelic murals fill the walls; this is a place where you sleep where you drop! There are no stinkin’ hostel rules: you do you, man, just be respectful with each other.

This max-chiller shows up; we’ll call him KG.

KG sees the DJ booth. He sees the decks. He goes to the owner, Manolo, a level-10 dirtbag himself.

“Ohh, it’s my birthday tomorrow. Maybe we can throw a party?”

“Sure, man, we can throw a party.”

Bless hippies.

Fast-forward to the event and 60-odd people from around town show up – they simply heard that there was a party at the hippy hostel on the mountain. KG is having a great fucking time too: he’s cranking out tunes, he’s absolutely cooked, and he’s caught some cutie’s eye…

In the early hours of the morning, a guest approaches Manolo.

“Umm, sorry, but I think someone is having sex next to me upstairs.”

See, the thing about these dorms is that they’re only mattresses on the floor and only a few inches apart from each other. If your neighbourino is engaging in some late-night dormitory sex, you’re equally likely to catch something.

Manolo approaches the frisky pair. Sure-as-shit, KG has nabbed himself a birthday lay.

“Hey, guys, look, I wish you the best sex ever, really. Just not here;  c’mon, there’s someone sleeping like 30 centimetres away from you – it’s disrespectful.”

Bless hippies.

To KG and the birthday girl’s credit, they were very apologetic. They respectfully dragged a mattress out the front, respectfully banged under the stars outside the bar window, and respectfully passed out there so everyone could see them in their spreadeagled glory over breakfast.

Nice one, guys. Keep it classy.

Lesson I: Sex in Dormitories – It’s About Respect

Look, no one is pointing fingers. Many people have done the sneaky dorm deed at some point. But here’s the thing: it’s not sneaky.

Everyone knows what’s happening. Bunks are shaking, smothered moans are emerging, and what’s that weird sloshing sound…?

This is a tentative topic as some take the mentality that it’s an expected part of the hostel life. Sometimes, it is, but, generally, you’re just kinda being a knob.

Like, what’s the legitimate difference between two people quietly sloshing it out and me sitting in bed with my laptop and playing porn softly throughout the night?

Yeah, it is a part of the backpacking sex culture. It’s still, however, just a lame-ass thing to do to a fellow traveller.

Your travelling dormies are hostelling around the world, and that’s exhausting – they need their shuteye. And just because it’s bone-erific backpacker shit, doesn’t mean that there’s really any difference between epic sex noises, turning the dorm’s lights on and off disco-style, or practising your Mongolian throat singing at 4 A.M. They’re all dick moves (huehuehue).

If you’re having sex in a hostel, there are better choices of venue than the dorm:

• Take a private room – Duh.
• The showers/bathroom – I’m not particularly a fan of shower sex, but I’m also not really a fan of spraying bunkmates with my juices.
• Outside – Love outside sex so much.
• The roof – Love outside sex with an amazing view even more!
• The laundry room – Why not?
• The kitchen – No! That was a test – you failed!

Takeaway: Having sex in a dorm room isn’t universally acceptable.

Like I said though: dormitory sex isn’t cut-and-dry. Sometimes, sex in the dorm is free game…

If everyone is riding that same vibe and no one gives a shit (or at least almost no one; every party has its wet blanket), then, again, why not?

It’s about reading the room…

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Tale II: Sharing is Caring

We’re at this hostel; a party hostel in Sri Lanka. Thursday through Saturday are the party nights. Thursday through Saturday, everyone puts their spiritual journey in park and attempts to drink themselves to transcendental understanding instead.

My friend Odin gets lucky – it must be that damn Israeli jawline. He’s with this chick in the dorm (as is the expectation at this hostel) and a small group of us chill in the hammocks outside the door sniggering. Because we’re adults.

Odin’s dorm buddy, Kooky, comes back, his catch in tow. There’s no walk of shame in a place like this; everyone wants the same thing.

Kooky stands in front of the door and I call out:

“I wouldn’t go in there if I was you.”

He ignores me opening the door wide. A moment passes before he closes it again without a single expression.

“Well… you weren’t wrong.”

The group of us are rolling in fits of laughter – I’ve never seen a bare Jewish ass going full-pelt before but Kooky sure has. As we cackle, Kooky and his girl contemplate their options.

And then, without a word, they open the door to the dormitory and waltz right in, closing it behind them.

We give it a while, unsure of what exactly has just happened. Time passes, joints are smoked, and eventually, Odin emerges. The fucker is practically glowing.

“Soo… Kooky just walked in… is that cool?” a friend asks him.

Odin just tilts his head and grins.

“Of course, there’s two.”

We all go wide-eyed, the ambiguity of his statement short-wiring our imaginations (there’s that bare Jewish ass in my mind’s eye again).

“…Two whats?”

“Two rooms – Kooky took the bathroom.”

…

“Ohhhh.” 

Lesson II: Sex in the Dorm Room Isn’t Always Disrespectful

Not if most-everyone is there with the same intent. You gotta remember, this was the same hostel where a dude who was already passed out in bed got up and waited outside when his mate (possibly Kooky again; that man pulls) showed up with a fresh partner-in-crime.

If having sex while travelling is something you’re seeking (can’t really blame you there), then there are certain places in the world to go… hostels in Europe, Southeast Asia, and the Latin Americas being top of the list. Inhibitions tend to be looser, as do peoples’ pants, and there are no real hard feelings over having sex in the dorm room.

There’s still a general sense of hostel sex etiquette to follow, but a dormitory bang is expected and fair game. No one will complain, AND, if they do, well… they probably booked the wrong hostel. 😉

Takeaway: In some environments, sex in the hostel dorms is a completely standard affair.

Oh, and before we move on from dormitories, this is just a friendly PSA reminder that a sheet is basically a curtain. Do everyone a favour and hang that shit up!

I have a friend who used to travel with his girlfriend before that relationship ended the same way that every loving relationship I’ve ever known has ended. Whenever they booked a dorm, one would book the top, one would take the bottom, and then they’d hang up a sheet and go at it. Everyone would know what they were doing but at least no one was visually disturbed… especially when they did anal!

Was that last part relevant? Hell no! But this next embarrassing story is swimming in anal so I wanted to prime you.

Tale III: Swimming in Anal

Simba is a good feller – a friend of mine. After a particularly bad breakup, he decided that emotionally void sex backpacking across Thailand would be the answer to his aching heart.

He meets this London lass – quite chavvy – at his hostel after a long night out. He is completely shitfaced at this point. Simba doesn’t remember the conversation they had; he only remembers the part where she says:

“I’m horny.”

So, in the pool it is! They’re in the pool; Chav’s gay best friends are in the pool. It’s a regular old pool orgy in Thailand because where the fuck else would this happen?

Simba has his back turned on the two dudes, the sounds they’re emitting being enough of a tell. Without turning around, he asks the guys if they have a condom he can have.

“Uhh, I’m using it.”

Right.

What do a girl and guy do when they’re blind drunk in a pool in Thailand without a condom? Anal, of course!

So, now it’s a regular old buttsex-only pool orgy in Thailand (with mandatory rest breaks for whiskey dick). Simba described some other things that she let him do to her night but… umm… I gotta have some filter, right?

Suffice to say, when the manager approached Simba the next day and informed him that there were CCTV cameras around the pool area, Simba was more than compliant in his eviction from the premises.

Lesson III: Staff Know Exactly What’s Up

This one is really a no-brainer. Hostels often have CCTV cameras on the premises and it’s really not hard to get found out. The staff know what’s up; they’ve seen it all before… mostly.

If you’re choosing a sneaky spot on-premises for hostel sex, check for wall-mounted lenses first. Or better yet, find a staff member and ask for a private room. You could even ask where the best spot to funk the groove is and maybe for a towel for afterwards – that’s being respectful!

Whatever you choose, I’d just suggest trying to avoid ending up on video-sharing websites. Although I’m not gonna lie… there’s a very Machiavellian side of me that hopes that this back-entry orgy is lurking somewhere as a sleeper hit online.

Takeaway: Staff know about all the raunchy hostel sex that occurs.

Takeaway: Hostels have CCTV cameras.

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Some places in the world are simply better for backpacker sex than others, and, generally, some destinations in the world have a more debauched reputation for their backpacking sex scene than others.

It kinda goes hand-in-hand with the party hostel sex life, but there are places in the world where the statistics are simply working better in your favour.

Tale IV: Youths, Hostel Sex, and Thailand

Yeah, it was crazy! We were staying in Thailand in this hostel… There was a big group of us just hanging out in our dorm after a night out and these two just start going at it.

At first, they were just fooling around. But then they just started fucking. Like, right there! In the middle of the floor and the group… it was fucked!

We’re all walking flat against the wall trying to squeeze past them to the door doing our absolute best to just avoid touching them.

Lesson IV: Thailand is Fucking Crazy

So, the downside of being in Thailand is that you’re in Thailand. But the upside is that you’re in the land of the young, dumb, and full of cum! Also smiles… apparently.

It’s not just Thailand where the hostel sex gets outta hand though; there’s a whole range of places where you can go if the aim is to get your Wiggles Hooley Dooleyed. Again, party hostels are the go-to for backpacker sex, and some places are better than others:

• Party Hostels in Europe – Cheap booze and cheap ecstasy – who even needs love and fulfillment? This is the 21st fucking century!
• Party Hostels in Amsterdam – Well, it’s Amsterdam. You didn’t go there to find yourself!
• Hostels in Koh Phangan, Thailand – Well, it’s Kho Phangan. You didn’t go there to find yourself!
• Hostels in Tel Aviv – Maybe you feel like batting for the other team for a night?
• Hostels in Ibiza – Ew…
• Hostels in Byron Bay – Ahh, my hometown. You smell like goon, poor decisions enacted on moonlit beaches, and daddy issues.
• Best Hostels in Bali – Shaggers paradise… everyone’s looking for connection

Takeaway: Seek and ye shall find.

However, while you’re off being a regular ol’ Carmen Sandiego with wider-spread legs, remember to keep your wits about you. Don’t let the cheap booze and below-average quality drugs in the third world tempt you into greater stupidity.

Tale V: Serves You Right, Rachel

Rachel sucks. Rachel decided that somehow, while backpacking in Sri Lanka, it would be appropriate to have sex in the back of our tuk-tuk rental without asking for permission first.

The following morning, Rachel also thought it would be appropriate to deny having had sex with the lovely Israeli man (in the back of our tuk-tuk) because he has a lisp and that might somehow lower her social standing. I also have it on good authority that Rachel got a rather nasty case of thrush from her bare-bottom escapades in our tuk-tuk.

Suck it, Rachel.

Lesson V: Rachel Sucks and Not in the Good Way… Also, Stay Sanitary

The world is full of germs (no I’m not referring to Rachel; I’ve moved on). Both backpacking Southeast Asia and South Asia, in particular, present territories which are not renowned for their cleanliness where also, coincidentally, a lot of quick-and-easy sex occurs.

Just, try and remember to be clean. There are a lot of grotty surfaces out there in the world and you probably don’t want your genitalia touching all these surfaces.

There are also a lot of wanderlust travellers around (see what I did there) who like smushing their good bits together with reckless abandon. You don’t know where their good bits have been.

Takeaway: The world is not clean – Asia in particular. Stay sanitary and stay safe.

Now, before we move on from the topic of sex while backpacking in Asia, there’s one last lesson (perhaps, reminder), I’d like to impart. It’s Asia-specific, sure, but perhaps it can be globally applied within reason too. This one came in from another close friend and it made me giggle to no end…

Tale VI: A Hostel Sex Fairytale Gets Asia’d

She was a sweet, innocent lass from the sexier part of Germany. He was a Mexican with eyes of fire and hips that don’t lie. The setting? Oh my God, it’s fucking Thailand again.

It was a goddamn fairytale! Their salsa sway parted the dancefloor like the Red Sea; Moses left his God at home and brought his A-game instead. She was lost to the romance. What could this be but true love?

At the party’s close, they walked the beach together hand-in-hand. Sex in the hostel was the expected kick-ons after a night Koh Phangan’s party scene; every inch of the premises was shag city. That would not deter her, however, there was a whole starry beach.

Tonight was the night she lost her innocence: no longer would she be a girl. This would be her first casual lay. Tonight, she would become… a stereotypical backpacker in Thailand!

Out amongst the long-tail boats, they ventured into the early A.M. darkness. Tentatively, she removed her clothes and he removed his with that Latino flair. Fluids were being exchanged, flagpoles were rising, this was it…

Until she saw it in the darkness. First, two glowing-white saucer eyes. Then, a beaming crescent-shaped mouth. Finally came the entire figure of a middle-aged Thai man.

He smiled crookedly at the love-drunk pair giving a thumbs-up as if to say, “Don’t mind me; go hard, amigos.” Sullenly, and silently, flagpoles were lowered and clothes went back on. The mood was dead, murdered by a friendly Thai boatman, and innocence was lost, however, not as she had hoped.

The girl had learnt a valuable lesson…

Lesson VI: There’s Always Someone Around in Asia

Seriously, anytime you think you’ve found a moment of peace and respite, someone emerges from the bushes, phone in hand, ready for that selfie.

Asia is a land of modesty and a public root is certainly a way to offend someone – be responsible in your travels. The locals are generally too meek to come at you waving sticks violently, but it’s certainly a way to get yourself in the bad books. It’s also disrespectful to many and just a disturbingly voyeuristic pleasure to the rest.

If entertaining middle-aged Thai boatmen and receiving the trademark South Asia stare on your bare booty tickles your eruption zone, then, by all means, public sex your way across the Asian continent. For everyone else, it’s best to confine your travel sex to hostels.

Takeaway: There’s always someone around in Asia.

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For the second movement of this article, we’re taking a turn away from the practical advice and steering into the quasi-philosophical. Hold on to your sex hat because it’s about to get Cleo mag up in this bitch!

The world is not always sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows; sometimes, it’s murky-brown poo-water flowing down the shores of the Ganges. Life is beautiful and so are we… but we’re also flawed, like an uncut gem. Sometimes, we’re such deeply flawed creatures that we don’t even see the cracks.

Sex while backpacking does not negate all the usual disclaimers that go along with partaking in sexcapades, be it sex in hostels or back-alleys in Berlin. Losing yourself to lust on the road, while fun, can get you into some serious problems while travelling, the same as losing yourself to drugs or booze.

Be smart and listen to yourself. Not every human you meet on the road will have the best intentions at heart and not every human is a good choice of a bang just because you got lost in their eyes.

Tale VII: [REDACTED]

Listen, there’s no story here. There are stories I could put here, but I don’t want to. They’re too dark and they’re no fun.

As you know, I asked a lot of people for contributions and not all stories that came in were Disney. I got sent some tales of truly depraved shit. I try to have a high threshold for the darkness of humanity, but some of this shit really, truly floored me.

We’ve all been taken advantage of at some point – guys do it and girls do it – and some people cop it a lot worse than others. Please, look out for yourself: no friends but the mountains.

Some people would write a ‘sex in hostels’ post to be all about the empowerment of sex and travel and the journey to find one’s self through exotic love. That’s fair. Sex while travelling is a journey and an adventure – there’s growth, majesty, and a lot of beauty in it.

But it would be disingenuous – and dangerous – to pretend that that’s the whole story. It can – and does – go the other way. We’ve all heard the stories and when they come, they turn my insides to ash.

Have fun and do you. Just… don’t let your guard down because you’re on holiday. Whether you’re backpacking Scandinavia or Argentina, there are always assholes around. That trait is universal.

In the words of my mum (and she’s a wise woman; I trust her):

Embrace every challenge and have only enough fear to keep yourself safe.

Lesson VII: In All Endeavours of Backpacking Sex – Trust Your Gut

Listen to yourself; listen to your gut. When your gut says something’s not right, pay attention. Always.

This lesson for all travellers and all people is not just the golden rule of travel and sex while travelling. It’s the golden rule of life.

Takeaway: Trust your gut.

Trust your gut and be smart. I like to set myself rules. Rules keep things simple when the urge to think with my dick takes over (that line may be metaphorical for you). There’s one rule that I’ve learnt hard lessons on before… (Heh.)

Don’t move too fast.

Tale VIII: Dude, that was dumb…

I remember this story well. I’d been in Pokhara, Nepal, for a while and we had a nice little crew of homeslices together. Solo travellers that all met in this town. Nepal attracts good people; drug tourism and stoner vagabonds is a beautiful mix.

One day my friend, Jeet, rocks up at our usual hang, eyes bright with his usual Ozzie camaraderie for life. He’s not the tightest-rolled hash joint in the cafe of stoners, but he has a heart of gold.

“Bro, I just met this chick. She’s amazing; we spent the night together! She’s really something, bro. I’m telling you!”

Ok, cool. Let’s see how this develops.

The next day, Jeet sidles up across from me again.

“So, like, late last night she got kicked outta her guesthouse. She didn’t have a place to stay so I told her to move into my room. Bro, we just have such a connection!”

Oh dear.

Two days pass and I don’t see Jeet. On the third day, he finally arrives at our haunt. He looks tired and haggard, his usual fire replaced by something damper.

“Ahh, bro, I just haven’t slept. I dunno what to do – she’s driving me fuckin’ crazy. She’s messy, she smokes all the time and I’m tryin’ ta quit. I’m not tryin’ to be an asshole, ya know, but she’s really up in my space, bro.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I think I need to kick her out.”

Oh, this is delicious.

The next day, and for the final time, Jeet approaches the topic with me.

“Well, she’s gone.”

“How’d it go?”

“She flushed my hash down the toilet”.

Ouch. That hurts.

Lesson VIII: Try Not to Think With Your (Proverbial) Dick

I’ve seen my friends do it many times. Usually, it’s guys more than girls, but female friends do it too.

Maybe, they’re not your twin flame. They’re probably not your soulmate either. Is it written in the stars? Na, the stars don’t give a fuck.

It’s backpacker sex: the oxytocin is high and the inhibitions are low. I’m not saying don’t soak it up – eat, pray, love, and fuck like rabbits.

Just try not to lose yourself – and sight of what matters most – in the journey. Don’t move in together. Don’t break your personal rules.

And, to paraphrase a favourite song of mine…

Takeaway: Don’t burn your blueprints for them.

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We’re approaching the end of class now and there are a couple of final notes I’d like to touch on. A couple of matters regarding sex while backpacking that strike a personal chord for me. Maybe I’ll be real for a sec.

Let’s see, shall we?

Tale IX: The Sad German

It’s a common story, yeah? It was mine. Your ex trashes you and now here you are, a million miles from home, a one-way ticket, no plans, and blah blah blah.

I went one direction – celibate and chanting with the Krishnas. An act of atonement. A struggle against the Absurd.

Others slam headfirst into the other end of the spectrum: copious amounts of MDMA and one-night stands with people they never even bothered to learn the name of.

I met this kind, and he wasn’t happy. He’d been a typical vagrant in Australia – vanlife, travel, and commitment issues – banging strangers, high as a kite, in all corners of the continent. When I met him, he was living rent-free, food provided and smoke gifted, in the forest-soaked mountains of Wellington, New Zealand. All he had to do was work a couple of hours in the garden every day and cook the family dinner at night.

Yet, still, he wasn’t happy. The grass was always to be greener elsewhere – anywhere that wasn’t home – and every girl he met was another target to fill that void she left in her wake. Another hostel sex story to recount to the boys.

Lesson IX: Backpacking Sex Doesn’t Fix Your Shit

It’s a good mix – sex while travelling. Almost as good as MD and sex (highly contingent on the situation’s susceptibility to pinger-dick). It’s nice, but it doesn’t change anything.

It’s something a friend said to me before I left and never was it truer than when I returned home for the first time.

“If you’re travelling to run away from your problems, there’s no point. They’ll all still be waiting for you when you get back.”

He was so right. If the goal of the sex is to just get off and have a good time, that’s commendable. There’s honesty in those intentions. If the connection is genuine, that’s even better: that’s the dream.

But if you’re just using sex and travel as an escape, that’s not going to get you anywhere. It isn’t going to heal you and, worse, your dishonesty is only going to hurt more people. That’s when sex stops being beautiful and becomes a weapon.

I’m not saying celibacy with the Krishnas helps any more, but at least no more hearts get broken.

Takeaway: Sex while travelling isn’t the ultimate answer. Still fun though! 😉

And since we’re taking this into Tony Robbins territory, I got one last topic I’d like to broach. This isn’t a sex in a hostel story. It’s barely a backpacking sex story.

It is, however, about as personal a chord for me as we’re gonna get on this topic. It’s something I really want to cover far removed from the boys and girls in hostel affairs and the glorious tales of supreme anal conquests in exotic lands.

Tale X: My Friend, the Phantom

It’s hard to watch. He’s such a good human and I love him to absolute pieces, but there’s something he does that hurts my heart.

He falls in love and out of love like it’s a trial period for a new piece of computer software. Every girl he meets on the road is another white buffalo. He tells them grand stories about how he hasn’t felt like this since his ex; how he thinks they’re the one to “heal him”.

That’s not how it plays out though, is it? A few days later, he bails. I don’t know if it’s fear, dishonesty, or something more complex, but he runs. Every single time.

He doesn’t just run though: he ghosts. All attempts that are made to hail him by the devastated women are left unfulfilled. He’ll leave a town – or country – just to escape the empty promises he delivered.

Poof. Without any warning, the love is gone.

Lesson XI: Don’t Ghost Someone

Yeah, the connection to the backpacking sex scene is tenuous, but I think you can see it. Being a homeless, roots-less, backpack-slinging vagabond-soul makes it so much easier to disappear like a phantom. To ghost someone.

Don’t. That shit fucks people up – hard. This I know this to be true. (Am I alluding hard enough yet?)

We like to tackle the topic of respectful travel at The Broke Backpacker and this, for me, is no different. When you’re sleeping your way across the seven continents, do it with integrity. Don’t leave a trail of broken hearts in your wake.

Have courage: dump someone like an adult. Don’t lie and manipulate just because you have the easy freedom of a drifter to do it.

Takeaway: Treat hearts with care. They break easy and don’t mend so quickly.

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I know, cause I’ve seen them. I dunno how the story ends ten years on, but we never really do: that’s just part of the fun.

But first, it’s time for the roundup. Twelve takeaways about sex in hostels (and travel) from across the world!

Sex in Hostels Stories – The Takeaways!

Lesson XII: There’s Something Better Than Backpacking Sex

That right there is the “sex in hostels” mantra I tell my friends. This is me being real for a sec.

When the burning cynicism in love and sex on the road becomes too wretched to bear… When the old wounds of abuse, and ghosts, and kitchen knives being drawn (that’s another story) sting too great, this is what I remind myself of.

That somehow, in a world of dead romance – in the post-modernistic abyss of the 21st-century – love still finds a way. That in a hypersexualised society where edgy hostel sex story posts are written to air peoples’ dirtiest laundry…

It’s still worth believing in love.

Final Takeaway: Sometimes, burn your blueprints for them. Trust your gut. Love is worth it.

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Yuck! What was that shit? This was supposed to be about vacuous sex in hostels and instead, I started talking about love and feelings and shit!

No, to be real, this was the post I wanted to write. I was so damn pumped to write a gloriously edgy hostel sex story article, but once I started writing it, my heart went a different direction. I think it’s pretty clear that I’m a cynic, and, sometimes, I’m a real buttmunch. But this one?

This was from the heart.

I wanted to write about practising restraint and being kind and honest to the hearts you meet. I wanted to write about endeavouring not to hurt them. I want you to travel and adventure – to love and lust – and I wish you the best backpacking sex ever, truly.

If this wasn’t the piece you wanted, then there are some pretty damn awesome posts about sex while travelling out there on the ol’ interwebs. But if ya hung in there with me, thanks – I appreciate it. At the end of the day, sex, love, and travel… they’re pretty damn fucking alright!

…

Zigz, don’t ever be real. Get back to the good shit! How are we wrapping this sex travel post up?

Damn, son! Well, you have your lessons. I hope, despite the amount of level-10 garbage I talked, you found some small nugget of wisdom in there! At the very least, please don’t fuck in the hostel kitchen; no one wants your mayonnaise in their salad.

I think there’s only one true way to wrap this shit up. One last grandiose story about sex in hostels from The Broke Backpacker vaults direct from a member of our team; we have some excellent ‘normal’ people on the team. I saved the very best for last.

Tale XII: What’s That White stuff?

It was Saturday night and the hostel was alive with the buzz. Several beers had been sunk and we were just warming up for the night’s debauchery that lay ahead. My new best friend Max turned to me.

“Hey, man… you wanna do a line?”  This was a hostel in Colombia after all.

I gave a cheeky grin.

“Fuck yeah,” and we set off towards the communal hostel toilet cubicle together.

Max racked up some extremely generous lines and we hoovered them up using 20,000 peso notes before checking ourselves in the mirror for white residue. I opened the door and we both stepped out only to find Manuel, the hostel duty manager, standing there. The hostels “No Drugs” policy had been explained to us both when we checked in, and from the look on Manuel’s face, we could tell he had every intention of enforcing it.

“No drogas! This is big problem.” We were fucked.

But Max had a plan. “No it’s not what you think…we’ve just been wanking each other off!”

Manuel was evidently thrown by this and tilted his head sideways like a confused pup. He looked at me for confirmation. I solemnly nodded and raised my hand to make the international gesture for masturbation.

“Oh….ok…” he said, bemused, “But next time… only one person in toilet!”

Manuel never looked me in the eye again during the remainder of my stay.

Fin

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