As budget travelers, we always look for a good hostel in each destination we visit. This is particularly true in Europe, where even budget backpacking can be pricey. Hostels are the answer to our budget traveler dreams: the price and amenities can’t be beat. There are kitchens to cook in, affordable meals and inexpensive drinks, and a social atmosphere full of travelers – all the things we absolutely crave when we’re travelling! And if the thought of a dorm room freaks you out, don’t worry: most hostels have private rooms too, which means you get all of the benefits of staying in a hostel for a fraction of the price of a hotel.
With our love for hostels in mind, we’re happy to report that we found a gem in Vienna, Austria. Hostel Ruthensteiner is the oldest hostel in Vienna, and is considered one of the best hostels in Europe. We jumped at the opportunity to stay at the best hostel in Vienna and discover its charm for ourselves!
Psst: We visited Austria and the Czech Republic in one incredible winter trip! Read up on what we did before you go:
- 10 Things to do in Vienna in the Winter: The Ultimate Vienna Christmas Guide
- 18 Snowy Pictures of Hallstatt, Austria in Winter to Fuel your Wanderlust
- 12 Delightful Things to Do in Prague in Winter
- 14 Reasons to Escape from Prague to Český Krumlov this Winter
Wondering what to do in Vienna during your visit? We’ve got a whole winter guide to Vienna.
Read our Vienna Winter Travel Guide
Checking out the epic chalkboard guide to Vienna at Hostel Ruthensteiner, the oldest hostel in Vienna!
Hostel Ruthensteiner: The Oldest Hostel in Vienna
Hostel Ruthensteiner dates back to 1968, when backpacking was just becoming a “thing” and eager young people – think like, cool travelling hippies – were setting out with packs on their back to explore new and unknown places. It’s hostels like this that set the tone for what we think of today when we imagine a great hostel: warm, cozy, social, and the perfect jumping-off point to explore a new place.
Places like Hostel Ruthensteiner make me think of my dad, who backpacked through Europe and Southeast Asia in the early 70’s (I inherited the wanderlust gene from every member of my family). In fact, it turns out that he actually stayed at Hostel Ruthensteiner during his travels in Austria, which blows my freaking mind.
How different was it then compared to now? Unfortunately, all my dad remembers is that he stayed there – trust me, I had a ZILLION questions, but this was nearly 50 years ago. I inherited both the wanderlust gene AND the forgetful gene from my family. Isn’t that nuts, though?
It was with an awed sense of history and retracing my dad’s footsteps that we navigated to Hostel Ruthensteiner through the streets of Vienna, itself a city rich with history. 50 years in a city like Vienna is nothing: the city was first founded in 500 …. BC.
I wonder how different Vienna looked to my dad 50 years ago. I wonder if it looked terribly different at all.
These handy dandy directions to EVERYWHERE in Vienna greeted us at the front desk of Hostel Ruthensteiner in Vienna, Austria!
Checking into Hostel Ruthensteiner
The first thing we did when we arrived at Hostel Ruthensteiner was to fill up a mug with hot, steamy apple cinnamon tea to warm up from the chilly Vienna winter outside. I say tea, but it was really more like a cider, in that it was sugary and delicious and tasted like Christmas and happiness.
We sipped as we checked in with the friendly staff. Although we’d arrived before the check-in time of 2pm, we were able to leave our belongings safely locked up inside the roomy free lockers – SUCH a helpful perk! We dumped our backpacks, and free of our luggage, set out for a day of exploring Vienna.
When we returned later that night, we settled into our cozy private room. Hostel Ruthensteiner is not a luxury hostel: you’ll get what you need, without frills. Our room contained a double bed with a heater conveniently placed to keep the tops of our heads toasty and warm, a few shelves, a bar with some coat-hangers, and a sink with a mirror (we opted for a cheaper room with a shared bathroom and shower, which was located just next door and quite clean). The room was warm and comfortable, with just enough room for the both of us and our belongings – and if it was perhaps a tad bit musty, we forgave it immediately. What else do you expect from a hostel that’s been around since 1968?
After settling into our home for the next few nights, we headed straight to the bar for Happy Hour. Hostel Ruthensteiner’s bar is located in the lounge, along with a piano, several guitars and ukuleles, and a wide selection of games and books. This is what we love about hostels: these cozy spots to relax, unwind, and meet other travelers while sipping a cheap drink. We ordered a cold draft beer from the small bar and did just that.
So, confession: I do not play the Ukelele. But Jeremy, my mom, AND my sister all do. I do, however, play the cello. But Hostel Ruthensteiner sadly does not have a cello hanging out in the lounge for guests to use.
Relaxing in the Lounge at Hostel Ruthensteiner
The lounge was fairly quiet at 7pm but within a few hours, groups had joined and mingled and excited chatter soon drowned out the chillwave emitting from the room’s speaker. For our readers who don’t teach youths like Jeremy does, and perhaps aren’t up on the hip musical trends: chillwave is a kind of music. It’s very chill.
We heard snippets of conversation, mangled attempts at Spanish followed by laughter and appreciation in broken English; notes being compared on the best places to visit in Vienna, Prague, and Budapest; a few chiming chords on Hostel Ruthensteiner’s free-to-use guitars; and the ever-present “so where are you from?” and “where have you been?”
These are the sounds of a hostel: conversation, shared experiences, travelers coming together to bond over their passion for exploring new places.
Chillwave aside, I think this is exactly the kind of night my dad must have experienced at Hostel Ruthensteiner in the 70’s.
I like to imagine that my dad had some of these same kinds of conversations here and at other hostels around Europe and Southeast Asia during his travels. Perhaps he and the other guests swapped earmarked copies of The Lonely Planet, which came out in 1972, or Let’s Go, founded in 1960. He gave me Let’s Go Europe for my very first backpacking trip to Europe 5 years ago and still insists that I refer to it on each trip I take. I like to imagine him with a worn copy sitting in his pack.
I also like to imagine him with a bushy Jew-fro, a blonde mustache, and a bright red beard, because this is apparently the look he was rockin’ in the early 70’s. Sadly, pictures have since been destroyed.
The breakfast at Hostel Ruthensteiner is cheap and generous. Also, there’s a waffle maker. And nutella!
Breakfast at Hostel Ruthensteiner
The next morning we woke bright and early (which for us just means before 10am) and devoured the breakfast buffet.
The breakfast at Hostel Ruthensteiner is super affordable and offers plenty to fill you up for a day of exploring Vienna. There’s everything from a fresh-ground coffee machine (it’s actually surprisingly good! I recommend #8, the Macchiato) to cheese, meat & bread; cucumbers and tomatoes; fresh fruit; cereal and milk; and even fresh waffles griddled on a waffle iron.
We obviously made waffles, and of course we covered those waffles in Nutella … and jam. #YOLO
During breakfast, we sat at long family-style tables overlooking the gardens. I imagine in the summer, many folks might choose to eat outside; but it was December, so we contented ourselves with the view instead. We met a few other travelers and compared notes: most had either just come from Prague, or were soon headed to Prague (like us). Others would soon be leaving for Budapest. Everyone had photos to share, suggestions to make, and travel tips to provide. Yet another reason why we love hostels: the people, the energy, the vibe. Yes, we’re from California and we say things like “vibe” un-ironically. Sorry not sorry.
After breakfast, we consulted the front desk to get some travel tips for our day. Hostel Ruthensteiner is an incredible resource for travelers looking to discover Vienna. From a giant blackboard decorated with useful information, to maps printed seasonally with relevant information (we picked up a copy of their Christmas Market map & guide, which was immensely helpful during our trip) to “How to Get There” instructions for popular destinations printed on handy strips of paper, there was a wealth of information without even needing to ask for help.
The staff behind the front desk was also incredibly knowledgeable, cheerful, and super friendly. They directed us to our chosen destination for the day – Schonbrunn Palace – and we managed to get ourselves there without getting lost, which is quite a feat for us.
There’s nothing better than a cheap, cold beer and good conversation with other travelers at an awesome hostel. We love it!
Last Night at the Best Hostel in Vienna
After another long day of sightseeing and stuffing ourselves silly at Christmas Markets, we headed back to the hostel. We chose a restaurant down the block – most restaurants we wanted to visit in Vienna were closed for the winter holidays, but Cafe Mozart was blessedly open.
We ordered a Schnitzel von Schwein and some delicious beef broth with a giant cheese fritter in it. Why have I never thought to fry up some cheese and put it in broth before?! Genius. If you’re missing a few Austrian dishes from your must-eat list, Cafe Mozart is a good place to get your fill at decent prices.
Finally we returned to Hostel Ruthensteiner, for another night of relaxing with a cold beer and good conversation.
Flash back 50 years ago to my dad’s last night in Vienna. He left Hostel Ruthensteiner, bought a used VW van from a friend, and headed west from Austria into Switzerland to spend the next 6 months #vanlife-ing through Europe. My dad was the original OG backpacker, y’all. It kills me that there are no pictures from his travels – and of course, he didn’t have a blog to record his experiences. Practical Wanderlust is my personal insurance against forgetting my trips. When my kid asks me 50 years from now about our travels, I’ll just send them a link 😉
The next morning we would be heading from Vienna to Halstatt on our own journey, saying goodbye to Hostel Ruthensteiner and to Vienna. But for the moment, we were just a couple of travelers on an adventure, excited to wake up and venture off somewhere new.
In this summer, this courtyard is buzzing with travelers hanging out, chatting, relaxing, checking out bikes, and playing giant chess!
About Hostel Ruthensteiner
- Cost: Dorms from €10, private rooms from €35
- Location: About 5 minutes walking from West Bahnof, a major train station with both inter-country trains and underground routes connecting throughout Vienna. The actual area surrounding the station is not very pretty, but the hostel is conveniently close to the train station on a much quieter street.
- Check Pricing & Availability on Hostelworld
Check Pricing & Availability on Hostelworld
Psst: Planning a trip to Austria? During our trip, we visited Vienna, Hallstatt, and then Český Krumlov and Prague in the Czech Republic. Here are some posts you should probably Czech out 😉 Looking for things to do after a restful night’s sleep? Check out these Vienna hidden gems or 5 things not to miss in Vienna!
- 10 Things to do in Vienna in the Winter: The Ultimate Vienna Christmas Guide
- 18 Snowy Pictures of Hallstatt, Austria in Winter to Fuel your Wanderlust
- 14 Reasons to Escape from Prague to Český Krumlov this Winter
- 12 Delightful Things to Do in Prague in Winter
Have you ever traveled to somewhere that your parents or loved ones visited years before? Tell us your story in the comments! 
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![[SAN FRANCISCO] The Gold Rush. The Summer of Love. Silicon Valley. San Francisco is a chameleon city: every few decades it changes, morphing into whatever the next Big Thing is and attracting idealists, inventors, and forward-thinkers. It's a city of beauty, joy, art, and innovation.
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The story of San Francisco is written up and down its steep, winding streets. You'll feel the history of San Francisco as you're climbing Coit Tower for sweeping views of Alcatraz and the Bay, or taking Golden Gate Bridge selfies at Baker Beach (just watch out for nude photo-bombers in the background). You'll feel it as you're warming up with a steaming bread bowl full of clam chowder at Fisherman's Wharf, or kickin' it with the hippies in Haight-Ashbury who came in 1969 and never left. Reading beat poetry in Jack Kerouac Alley. Enjoying a sweet, soft coconut bun from a tiny bakery in Chinatown. Admiring the beautiful, powerful street art in the Mission district. Celebrating marriage and gender equality in the Castro. Trying to figure out if that's Mark Zuckerberg or just some other techie dude in a Facebook hoodie in the Financial District (I guess that's not history... yet). Each neighborhood in the city tells its own story.
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San Francisco also has its problems: rampant homelessness. Gentrification. Diminishing diversity. Corporate interests pushing the city forward without enough consideration of its long-term residents. Insane rent prices.
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It is a city that reflects America's extremes: you can feel the divide between the wealthy, zipping around on hoverboards or private cars and ordering everything from dinner to housekeeping on their smartphones; and those who are struggling to make ends meet - or struggling to survive on the streets.
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Although we live in Oakland, we have a lot of love for San Francisco and its complex past & present. You should visit and decide what you think of it yourself! We've got a post about where to stay when you visit, built on Jeremy's decade of experience as a local and a mindful approach to San Francisco's many complexities - link in bio.
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What do you associate with San Francisco? Have you ever been? Drop us a comment below!](http://scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com/vp/8a9baaae44a32f2d3eeab63cfe008980/5DDFA537/t51.2885-15/sh0.08/e35/c0.135.1080.1080a/s640x640/67936545_442033469734625_6728412070039651574_n.jpg?_nc_ht=scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com "[SAN FRANCISCO] The Gold Rush. The Summer of Love. Silicon Valley. San Francisco is a chameleon city: every few decades it changes, morphing into whatever the next Big Thing is and attracting idealists, inventors, and forward-thinkers. It's a city of beauty, joy, art, and innovation.
.
The story of San Francisco is written up and down its steep, winding streets. You'll feel the history of San Francisco as you're climbing Coit Tower for sweeping views of Alcatraz and the Bay, or taking Golden Gate Bridge selfies at Baker Beach (just watch out for nude photo-bombers in the background). You'll feel it as you're warming up with a steaming bread bowl full of clam chowder at Fisherman's Wharf, or kickin' it with the hippies in Haight-Ashbury who came in 1969 and never left. Reading beat poetry in Jack Kerouac Alley. Enjoying a sweet, soft coconut bun from a tiny bakery in Chinatown. Admiring the beautiful, powerful street art in the Mission district. Celebrating marriage and gender equality in the Castro. Trying to figure out if that's Mark Zuckerberg or just some other techie dude in a Facebook hoodie in the Financial District (I guess that's not history... yet). Each neighborhood in the city tells its own story.
.
San Francisco also has its problems: rampant homelessness. Gentrification. Diminishing diversity. Corporate interests pushing the city forward without enough consideration of its long-term residents. Insane rent prices.
.
It is a city that reflects America's extremes: you can feel the divide between the wealthy, zipping around on hoverboards or private cars and ordering everything from dinner to housekeeping on their smartphones; and those who are struggling to make ends meet - or struggling to survive on the streets.
.
Although we live in Oakland, we have a lot of love for San Francisco and its complex past & present. You should visit and decide what you think of it yourself! We've got a post about where to stay when you visit, built on Jeremy's decade of experience as a local and a mindful approach to San Francisco's many complexities - link in bio.
.
What do you associate with San Francisco? Have you ever been? Drop us a comment below!")
![[BEACH PEOPLE] Some people are born to be on the beach. All year long, they dream about dipping their toes in bright blue water and frolicking on soft white sand, and they return from their beach vacation with sun-kissed skin, positively glowing with beachy bliss.
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I envy those people.
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While they’re happily soaking up the sun, I’m busy being burned to a crisp, accidentally inhaling mouthfuls of sand, swallowing saltwater, freaking out because I saw one single jellyfish, yanking tangles out of my hair, and trying to get sand un-stuck from places that sand should never, ever be.
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I am truly the least graceful person who has ever been on a beach. And it doesn’t help that finding a decent swimsuit as a size 16, almost 6-foot tall Amazonian woman is an exercise in torture and frustration (what is this, a bikini bottom for ANTS?!). Honestly, somehow I find it easier to pack for a trip to the literal Arctic Tundra than a day at the beach.
.
Which is why I began my 3 days of beachy bliss in the San Blas Islands off the coast of Panama by complaining. It was hot. It was sticky. There was sand EVERYWHERE. There weren't enough hammocks. There was too much sun. There were crabs (aka giant armored spiders) leaping around doing little crab waltzes or whatever. There was only electricity for an hour or so a day. There was no WiFi at all. I was convinced that this was hell.
.
Clearly, it was not hell. But it took me a bit to adjust to being constantly covered in sunscreen and saltwater. By the end of our 3rd day in San Blas, I was in full relaxation mode: I hadn't worn shoes in 3 days, my hair was in goddess-mode, and I'd sent off at least 53 emails via my crappy Panamanian SIM card that said "I'm on an island with no electricity or WiFi, so I'll have to get back to you later." I was officially in Island Mode, and for one glorious, shining moment, I finally understood Beach People. (I will never be able to accept crabs, though. Crabs are horrifying.)
.
Are you Beach People or would you prefer to cozy up to the fireplace in a mountain lodge with me?](http://scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com/vp/5d9a4e126269bdfe72039acf23933817/5DE2F442/t51.2885-15/sh0.08/e35/c0.135.1080.1080a/s640x640/65644919_2534245056640344_7143638401448131207_n.jpg?_nc_ht=scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com "[BEACH PEOPLE] Some people are born to be on the beach. All year long, they dream about dipping their toes in bright blue water and frolicking on soft white sand, and they return from their beach vacation with sun-kissed skin, positively glowing with beachy bliss.
.
I envy those people.
.
While they’re happily soaking up the sun, I’m busy being burned to a crisp, accidentally inhaling mouthfuls of sand, swallowing saltwater, freaking out because I saw one single jellyfish, yanking tangles out of my hair, and trying to get sand un-stuck from places that sand should never, ever be.
.
I am truly the least graceful person who has ever been on a beach. And it doesn’t help that finding a decent swimsuit as a size 16, almost 6-foot tall Amazonian woman is an exercise in torture and frustration (what is this, a bikini bottom for ANTS?!). Honestly, somehow I find it easier to pack for a trip to the literal Arctic Tundra than a day at the beach.
.
Which is why I began my 3 days of beachy bliss in the San Blas Islands off the coast of Panama by complaining. It was hot. It was sticky. There was sand EVERYWHERE. There weren't enough hammocks. There was too much sun. There were crabs (aka giant armored spiders) leaping around doing little crab waltzes or whatever. There was only electricity for an hour or so a day. There was no WiFi at all. I was convinced that this was hell.
.
Clearly, it was not hell. But it took me a bit to adjust to being constantly covered in sunscreen and saltwater. By the end of our 3rd day in San Blas, I was in full relaxation mode: I hadn't worn shoes in 3 days, my hair was in goddess-mode, and I'd sent off at least 53 emails via my crappy Panamanian SIM card that said \"I'm on an island with no electricity or WiFi, so I'll have to get back to you later.\" I was officially in Island Mode, and for one glorious, shining moment, I finally understood Beach People. (I will never be able to accept crabs, though. Crabs are horrifying.)
.
Are you Beach People or would you prefer to cozy up to the fireplace in a mountain lodge with me?")
![#ad [Trigger Warning: Eating Disorder] It took me a long time and a lot of hard work to love my body. Before my body and I loved each other, we were at war. I denied my body food. I mutilated my beautiful skin. And I attacked my own mind, verbally abusing myself from within in a torrent of vitriol, hate, and anger.
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In turn, my body rebelled. It ceased all non-vital functions, like growing my hair and nails, or menstruating. It denied me control of my own emotions, debilitating me with unpredictable fits of panic and terror. It focused my mind so intently on food that I had difficulty concentrating on anything else. And when the battle was at its worst, when I had denied my body even a single bite of food for over a week, my body retaliated by shutting down the functions of my heart.
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I was only 16 years old when my heart rate plummeted to 30 beats per minute. A doctor told me to start eating again, or I would die. I was dangerously underweight. But I made the decision to live.
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I don't talk too much about my ED because it makes me so incredibly sad. Because today, my body and I have a beautiful relationship. I worship my body, and it loves me right back. I treat my body with respect and it repays me with strength, endurance, and resilience. Together, we are an incredible team, capable of achieving any challenges or goals we dream up. And it makes me so sad to think back to the time when we weren't.
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But it's important for me to talk about it, openly and publicly, because I know some of y'all out there are struggling too. And I want to let you know that it's OK, I've been there - and it doesn't always have to be this way.
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No matter where you are in your journey to self-love, I want to challenge you to make peace with your body today. If you two are at war, call a truce. If you are reconciling, show yourself a little extra love today. One thing that helped me immensely during my recovery was to look at beautiful, positive images of women whose bodies looked like mine. So today, I'm following body-positive Instagrammers (got any faves?) and browsing @CaciqueIntimates!
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Tell me what you'll be doing to make peace with your body today!
.
#FortheLoveofCurves](http://scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com/vp/e447022c2d01bd83a732a7bc2cc5270f/5DE4AEC0/t51.2885-15/sh0.08/e35/c0.134.1080.1080/s640x640/67688744_1118377025017476_7306756110191464725_n.jpg?_nc_ht=scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com "#ad [Trigger Warning: Eating Disorder] It took me a long time and a lot of hard work to love my body. Before my body and I loved each other, we were at war. I denied my body food. I mutilated my beautiful skin. And I attacked my own mind, verbally abusing myself from within in a torrent of vitriol, hate, and anger.
.
In turn, my body rebelled. It ceased all non-vital functions, like growing my hair and nails, or menstruating. It denied me control of my own emotions, debilitating me with unpredictable fits of panic and terror. It focused my mind so intently on food that I had difficulty concentrating on anything else. And when the battle was at its worst, when I had denied my body even a single bite of food for over a week, my body retaliated by shutting down the functions of my heart.
.
I was only 16 years old when my heart rate plummeted to 30 beats per minute. A doctor told me to start eating again, or I would die. I was dangerously underweight. But I made the decision to live.
.
I don't talk too much about my ED because it makes me so incredibly sad. Because today, my body and I have a beautiful relationship. I worship my body, and it loves me right back. I treat my body with respect and it repays me with strength, endurance, and resilience. Together, we are an incredible team, capable of achieving any challenges or goals we dream up. And it makes me so sad to think back to the time when we weren't.
.
But it's important for me to talk about it, openly and publicly, because I know some of y'all out there are struggling too. And I want to let you know that it's OK, I've been there - and it doesn't always have to be this way.
.
No matter where you are in your journey to self-love, I want to challenge you to make peace with your body today. If you two are at war, call a truce. If you are reconciling, show yourself a little extra love today. One thing that helped me immensely during my recovery was to look at beautiful, positive images of women whose bodies looked like mine. So today, I'm following body-positive Instagrammers (got any faves?) and browsing @CaciqueIntimates!
.
Tell me what you'll be doing to make peace with your body today!
.
#FortheLoveofCurves")
![[FLASHBACK] We landed in Cartagena, Colombia for the first time ever on July 11th, 2016. The day before, we packed up what was left of of our belongings, said a tearful goodbye to our neighborhood cat friend Jasper, and boarded a plane to Cartagena, with no idea what to expect from the next year of travel.
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When we stepped onto the tarmac the Cartagena heat smacked us full on in the face. We were ill prepared for it. We were also ill prepared for the water we couldn't drink, the food we weren't quite sure how to order, the language we were struggling to speak, the culture that felt so unfamiliar to us, and the utter overwhelm of changing everything about our lives and giving up the comforts of a home we'd made for ourselves just to chase a crazy dream I'd been holding onto for a few years.
.
We spent that first night in Cartagena cuddled up in one uncomfortable bed in our hostel dorm, crying. (We also tearfully sent an email to our cat friend's owners to ask if we could Skype with Jasper. They did not respond.)
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This trip, our 3rd visit back to Cartagena, felt like a world apart from that first miserable night. We were joined by a group of 16 high school students and 3 of Jeremy's amazing co-educators on our @take_flyte_org trip. We brought the group to dinner at our favorite local restaurant (La Casa de Socorro) and insisted they order our favorite dish (seafood soup). As we explored Cartagena together we pointed out murals on the walls that had changed over the years, new developments being built, restaurants we loved, our favorite picturesque alleys in Getsemani, even the hostel dog we'd played with at that very first hostel so many years ago (he didn't remember us). We greeted Cartagena like an old friend and lovingly introduced her to Jeremy's students.
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3 years ago, we were afraid that we'd ruined our lives by quitting our jobs and giving up perfectly good lives to seek out adventure on a whim. Little did we know that our paths - both personal and professional - would take us back to Cartagena again and again. Cartagena is our lucky city!
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Have you returned to a place years later? How had you & the place you visited changed? Drop us a comment!](http://scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com/vp/8510a401e0dde9bef0f0dc8efd38f7bd/5DE32002/t51.2885-15/sh0.08/e35/c0.135.1080.1080a/s640x640/66217194_2311686425735958_7775172171184034345_n.jpg?_nc_ht=scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com "[FLASHBACK] We landed in Cartagena, Colombia for the first time ever on July 11th, 2016. The day before, we packed up what was left of of our belongings, said a tearful goodbye to our neighborhood cat friend Jasper, and boarded a plane to Cartagena, with no idea what to expect from the next year of travel.
.
When we stepped onto the tarmac the Cartagena heat smacked us full on in the face. We were ill prepared for it. We were also ill prepared for the water we couldn't drink, the food we weren't quite sure how to order, the language we were struggling to speak, the culture that felt so unfamiliar to us, and the utter overwhelm of changing everything about our lives and giving up the comforts of a home we'd made for ourselves just to chase a crazy dream I'd been holding onto for a few years.
.
We spent that first night in Cartagena cuddled up in one uncomfortable bed in our hostel dorm, crying. (We also tearfully sent an email to our cat friend's owners to ask if we could Skype with Jasper. They did not respond.)
.
This trip, our 3rd visit back to Cartagena, felt like a world apart from that first miserable night. We were joined by a group of 16 high school students and 3 of Jeremy's amazing co-educators on our @take_flyte_org trip. We brought the group to dinner at our favorite local restaurant (La Casa de Socorro) and insisted they order our favorite dish (seafood soup). As we explored Cartagena together we pointed out murals on the walls that had changed over the years, new developments being built, restaurants we loved, our favorite picturesque alleys in Getsemani, even the hostel dog we'd played with at that very first hostel so many years ago (he didn't remember us). We greeted Cartagena like an old friend and lovingly introduced her to Jeremy's students.
.
3 years ago, we were afraid that we'd ruined our lives by quitting our jobs and giving up perfectly good lives to seek out adventure on a whim. Little did we know that our paths - both personal and professional - would take us back to Cartagena again and again. Cartagena is our lucky city!
.
Have you returned to a place years later? How had you & the place you visited changed? Drop us a comment!")
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