Mr. Singh

Near the end of this yellow brick road and tucked to the left is the Hangover Hostel. When you walk up, there are a few chairs on the patio. Mr. Singh was sitting in one of them.

“Elizabeth?” He asked before we could say Hello.

“Yes!”

“Welcome.”

He made copies of our passports, and then slid open a large glass door. We were immediately inside our dorm room.

There were 12 beds inside. There was a sink and two bathrooms. That’s it, except for the life lessons posted on the walls.

When we showed up, two girls who we’d met in Pai were there. Elizabeth went out to dinner and drinks with them while I stayed behind.

Around 10 PM, Mr. Singh started placing bottled water next to everyone’s beds.

The internet was blazing fast.

When I needed dinner, Mr. Singh walked me down to a local restaurant and asked them to stay open a little bit longer to make me fried noodles.

He warned me about eating the pizza after midnight.

When I came back into our dorm room at 1 AM after a call, he asked, “Hey Will - do you have everything you need?”

Mr. Singh’s one-room hostel was the best place we’ve stayed.

10/10. 5 Stars. Two Thumbs Up.