Crushed under the weight of our senselessly heavy packs, we despair–we are in this town completely ill-prepared, no map downloaded to iDevice, no idea of lodging potential and price points, no clue as to where we even are.
And, dude across the street wants to charge CP$40,000 a night for dark, wifi-less cabañas while lady on the left sells her private dorm room–freshly-painted with neon yellow fumes to match–for CP$20,000 with little-to-no perks.
Ugh, we decide to meander around some more, and around the bend, it seems too good to be true–a chocolate factory cabaña place?
Surely, this will be way outside our budget, eclipsing dude and dudette, for it is riddled in cuteness with its overgrown hydrangeas and touches of stained glass.
But, to our surprise, Cabañas Ruka-Malal fall right where we need them to fall, a perfect couple’s hideaway: two-bedroom cabin with master bed and bath under the eaves, kitchen and pot-belly stove downstairs, totally adorable all-around for the fabulous rate of CP$28,000.
Traveling as a duo, we learn, necessitates different comforts, namely, some semblance of privacy some of the time, and lucky for us, off-the-beaten path habitaciones offer more than what HostelWorld could over claim–a resource, by the way, that I start to loose faith and preference in, their per-person pricing totally annoying and borderline price-gouging, especially when local options tend to match per-person rates for an entire cabaña, something Bookings does pretty well.
Not to mention, we also fall outside the bell curve average of hostel goers, on the upper echelon of young, outdone only by silver-haired foxes braving the big bad world solo. Translation: hosteling is all fun and games at the ripe old ages of 22, 24, even 28, but now, solidly into our thirties, we aren’t the beer pong fanatics we once were, and simply put–
We need sleep.
So, now, we get to play house in volcano country, eager to put this wee kitchen to use and eat our dinners by fireside, just my man and I.