I booked a hostel for my London trip mostly to save money and fully expected to regret it by night two. I did not regret it, not even once, and now I’m annoyed at how many trips I overpaid for a forgettable hotel room when this existed the whole time.
It was a six-bed dorm behind Brick Lane, the kind of place with a huge communal kitchen, a rooftop that actually got used, and a front desk person who gave better restaurant recommendations than any guide I’d read. Beds had real curtains and their own outlets and reading lights, which is apparently the bar now for hostels not to feel like summer camp, and it cleared that bar easily.
The dorm itself was quiet after eleven, clean enough that I never once regretted the shared bathroom, and social in exactly the way I wanted: I ended up getting dinner with two people I met making toast at 8 a.m., and we’re still texting. That’s the whole pitch for hostels, honestly. You’re paying less and getting more built-in conversation than a hotel would ever offer.
The details
- Price: Less than a third of what a hotel room in the same neighborhood was quoting me.
- Location: Ten minutes from Shoreditch High Street station, close enough to walk most places.
- Best feature: The rooftop, hands down. Free, quiet in the mornings, and a great place to plan the day with coffee.
- Only complaint: The lift was tiny and the stairs were steep. Pack lighter than you think you need to.
If you’re on the fence about hosteling past your twenties, this is your sign. I’d book it again tomorrow.
