the city where i couldn’t find a blanket and kept snoring in a hostel

i woke up to the sound of rain tapping on the tent and realized i’d packed my sleeping bag as a pillow. it was 7.52 degrees outside, which is basically a frozen soda can, but i didn’t care. i just checked and it’s that temperature right now, hope you like that kind of thing. the humidity was so thick it felt like the air was trying to cling to my skin. i sat by the window and watched the clouds tilt like they were judging my life choices. maybe they were. or maybe it was just the 86% humidity. either way, i was convinced the neighbors were whispering things about me. if you get bored, the nearby markets are just a short drive away. i heard that. from a drunk guy at a hostel bar. he said the city’s best secret is a bakery that sells bread from a real oven, but i don’t know if that’s true. maybe. probably not.

someone told me the cooks here are so desperate they’ll give you a free meal if you say the magic words. i asked for a cheeseburger and got a grilled vegetable skewer with a side of moral support. it was fine. i think. i don’t remember. i was half-asleep.

i took a picture of the sky. it was a weird blue. like someone dropped a blue crayon in a bucket of water and stirred it. not bad. not great. here’s that pic:

i also saw a street artist painting a portrait of a cat on a dumpster. it was amazing. i asked him what it was called and he just stared at me and said ‘it’s a cat. it’s a symbol of survival.’ i don’t know. i thought it was a metaphor for my soul. or maybe he was just bored. either way, i took a selfie with him. here’s that one:

the reviews are all over the place. one said the coffee is terrible but the wifi is holy. another said the bike rentals are haunted. i tried the wifi. it worked. i stared at a wall for an hour. then i realized i was hallucinating. or maybe the weather was messing with my head. i asked a local if they’d recommend this place. they said ‘go to the opposite side of the city. where the sun doesn’t shine.’ i did. it was empty. just ruins and a single tree. maybe it’s a good thing.

i ended up sleeping in a yoga studio. they let me stay because i offered to do a session. i didn’t. i just lied. they didn’t stop me. i think. maybe they were too warm. or maybe they were waiting for someone else. either way, i’m not sure. the city is full of stories. or maybe it’s just full of people who aren’t home. i can’t tell. i’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

if you’re thinking of coming here, don’t. or do. i don’t know. the weather is fine. the people are weird. the reviews are confusing. but hey, it’s a story. and stories are all we have. unless you bring a blanket. and maybe a sweater. and maybe a buddy.

here’s a link to the local market if you’re feeling brave: TripAdvisor link

and a Yelp if you need help finding the haunted bike rental: Yelp link

oh, and if you want to know more about the cat painting, check out the city’s art board: local board link.

i don’t know what i’ll do next. maybe i’ll try to find that blanket. or maybe i’ll just keep snoring. either way, i’ll write about it. because that’s what humans do. messy, confused, and slightly sleep-deprived.

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