Oh, sure, visitors to Chicago can fork over $400 for a fancy room in a Gold Coast hotel with a complimentary sliver of soap, a tiny bottle of shampoo and, in at least two places, the use of a “thick terry bathrobe.”
Or they can follow the path of an increasing number of savvy travelers–and not just students–to a stately building in Printers Row designed in 1895 by Howard Van Doren Shaw, a legend of Chicago architecture.
Once a Donnelley printery, later turned into luxury lofts, now a Columbia College dorm, it serves in summer as Chicago’s only downtown outpost for Hostelling International, a worldwide network of 5,000 hostels in 70 countries, places where people of many cultures get to know each other.
Staying in the 229-bed Chicago Summer Hostel costs $21.95 a night–if you can get in. But don’t expect a doorman to help with the bags.
There are, as visitors note, no maids to turn down the beds at night or leave wrapped mints on pillows. Complimentary shoeshine? Forget it.
On the other hand, there is an esprit de corridor–a get-to-know-your-neighbor friendliness–to the place that, as many note, breaks down walls.
Compared to “just a hotel,” the hostel “has been wonderful,” noted Ellen Ross, a co-leader of two dozen high-spirited members of Troop 1339, Girl Scouts of the U.S.A., visiting from Coon Rapids, Minn.
“The girls have never really experienced people from other countries,” Ross said, explaining that many of the high points of their trip to Chicago, for which the girls raised funds by selling caramel apples and cookies and delivering groceries, came in the hostel’s do-it-yourself dining area.
Like taking a mini-trip abroad, they got to watch a Japanese man making his own breakfast, share their spaghetti sauce with two German students, talk computer arts with a man from England and chat about daily life in locales as far apart as Hong Kong and France.
“So, what did you learn from the French?” a visitor asked a Scout, as the troop prepared to dress for dinner at a nearby restaurant, Prairie.
“They were making fun of us in German,” she replied, somewhat miffed.
“No, dear,” corrected co-leader Victoria Paine. “Those were the Germans.”
“Our mission, throughout the world, is to promote greater understanding of people,” said Carolyn Stanek, leading a visitor on a tour of the red-brick building whose lofts currently house two to eight hostelers a night.
“Here, you see cultural attributes, exchange information and can ask questions, such as, `Why are you eating that?’ ” said Stanek, who is hostel development manager for the Metro Chicago Council of American Youth Hostels, as this country’s share of Hostelling International is known.
Like bed-and-breakfast operations, hosteling is as much about meeting people and sharing experiences as it is about finding shelter, added Michael Scribner, manager of the outpost at 731 S. Plymouth Ct., which closes Sept. 2 after what has been an exceptionally busy summer.
This season, guests have included four French basketball players who came on a pilgrimage to see the United Center, as a sort of religious experience.
A dozen bicyclists, riding across the country from Seattle, arrived “in a driving rain, but with great smiles on their faces,” Scribner recalled. They ranged in age from 17 to 70 and stayed two days before heading east.
A quartet of poets, the Tele-Poetics, came from Hamburg, Germany, a sister city to Chicago, and spent a week going to local cafes and poetry readings.
One morning, a 50-member English brass band warmed up in the exercise room, sending a version of “Chicago” wafting through halls. Another night, some Belgian musicians played rock, jazz and folk music in the TV room.
“People who have never stayed in a hostel think it’s a bunch of transients–or all students,” Scribner said. But a recent survey of users of the 225 accredited hostels in North America found one-third were “professionals/managers” and “85 percent had a credit card,” he said.
Along with many foreign visitors, drop-ins at the Chicago hostel include wanderlusting seniors, vacationing educators, even conventioneers thrust into a new experience when downtown hotels are booked up.
One surprise: You rent sheets, or bring your own.
Rather than rules, the hostel posts lists of “customs,” which include a ban on alcohol. There is no age limit, or curfew, but there are “quiet hours,” from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. The rates are not by the room, but by the bed, most in gender-separated spaces.
Sleeping bags are not allowed, to cut down on incoming grunge. Guests need a government-issued picture ID to check in, for similar reasons.
“It’s clean and spacious,” observed Yvonne Donnelly of Belfast, swapping road smarts in a common room with Yvonne Geraghty, also from Belfast, and two students from England, Paul Mooney and Patrick Hamilton.
Travel is not always pleasant, Donnelly said, relating how she sat beside “a stinky man” on a long bus trip, discouraged from using an air freshener because the driver warned her that “it fouls up the air conditioning.”
She also reported on a hostel near the Grand Canyon that suffered from cat odors, blocked shower drains and disagreeable toilets.
“Not one of ours,” quickly countered Stanek, noting that Hostelling International, with help from Cultural Affairs Commissioner Lois Weisberg, is working toward a year-round operation in the downtown area.
“A permanent hostel for our great city,” Weisberg recently noted, in a letter of support, “would provide 50,000 overnight stays each year for budget-minded travelers of all ages.” All will wash their own dishes.
