Looking for a cheaper way to travel the globe
Tired and bewildered in the suburbs of Tokyo, Andy and I approached the door of the first floor flat with trepidation. A small note saying ‘couchsurfers welcome’ pinned beneath the buzzer reassured us that we had come to the right place. After a brief squabble over who should ring I pressed the button, my stomach a riot of butterflies. After a couple of seconds a short, attractive Japanese man answered with a wide smile; “you’re just in time for the party guys” he said in American accented, perfect English. Music blared from a sound system in the corner as we got into the party spirit, enjoying the free drinks, fried chicken and homemade ice-cream. This is the spirit of Couchsurfing, within an hour of arriving within in brand new country it’s your golden ticket to instant friends, free food and drink and best of all a ‘couch’ to rest your weary head at night, or tatami mat in our case.
I first heard about this unusual phenomenon whilst backpacking in India. In a place like Delhi where £2 can buy you a double room with en-suite (albeit not with the most sanitary of conditions) you never need to worry about accommodation, full hostels, or booking ahead. However, in Japan, the prospect of funding oneself over three weeks is downright intimidating.
www.couchsurfing.com is an internet site for the adventurous traveller who’s keen to learn more about a culture than a cathedral or ruin can give. Like Facebook, every member has a profile with a picture and some information. You can act as a host and advertise your spare sofa or you can freeload off others by selling the best parts of your personality, advertising why you’d make the perfect guest. Although it may sound like a horror movie in the making, personal experience has taught me that putting a little faith in the kindness of strangers can pay off dividends. There’s even a rating system enabling you to leave comments about your experience to help filter out the psychos.
With 895,719 couchsurfers in action, the world’s your oyster.
My first experience of hosting rather than being hosted involved a young, good-looking Turkish man who introduced himself as “Farty”. Trying to suppress a smile I welcomed him inside and offered him a cup of English tea. We sat down for a chat and any fears that I had of inviting some sort of oddball into my home evaporated when he told me that he was au-pairing a six-year-old in the South. Farty was intelligent, courteous, and had a great sense of humor. His first act of goodwill was to walk down to Somerfield, buy some ingredients and then whip up a tasty Turkish cake. Within an hour we were chatting like old friends, and I felt genuinely excited about showing him around. As I was just about to tell him there’d be some additions to our party there was a knock at the door, and two blonde, blue eyed Austrian girls beamed at me with bright smiles and big rucksacks. Farty looked delighted. I figured if I was going to host I might as well throw myself in at the deep end.
Soon I was walking them around campus, feeding the ducks and feeling fantastic, my ego inflated by their compliments and appreciative attitudes. I was brought free drinks at the local, and they even paid for my meal at Totos. Best of all I had the opportunity to have a laugh and make friends with some genuinely interesting people; anyone up for dining and sleeping in the house of a perfect stranger won’t be your usual plain Jane.
After hosting a myriad of delightful travellers and earning a good store of karmic goodwill I decided it was my turn to become an international bum and escape the sky-rocketing hotel prices of Japan. The Couchsurfing website provided me with a wide range of potential hosts; you simply type in your city of choice and then pick whichever host looks least threatening. Yuji intrigued me due to the sheer number of travellers that he had allowed to stay. An enquiry email was answered by a speedy confirmation that he had room, and so we found ourselves welcomed within the throes of a local Japanese party on our first ever night in Japan.
The fun and games, however, were cut short at 11pm when Yuji pulled the plug on the music and told us to clean up and quieten down. Obviously there had been some trouble with noise and the neighbours in the past. It was then that I realised nearly everybody at the party was in fact staying, and looking around the modest two bedroom apartment I began to wonder where Andy and I would kip. The “Couchsurfers room” was full of top to tail sleeping bags and the most available room seemed to be beneath the kitchen table. We decided that the prospect would look a lot more inviting after some ritual intoxication, so we hit a local bar for a spot of sake and karaoke . We returned in good spirits in the small hours, settling into alcohol induced oblivion. Although not the most luxurious of facilities, it was pleasant enough to endure for a few more nights.
After recovering in the traditional ryokans of Kyoto, the cultural epicentre of Japan, we decided to blag a free night’s rest in Nara, home to the biggest indoor Buddha in the world. We were accepted by Mayumi, a 30-year-old local cafe owner who exuded a wonderfully calming temperament. She invited us to join her family for some ramen noodles and tempura. New to chopsticks, we fought a losing battle to uphold a sense of decorum, yet gained a valuable insight into Japanese culture that includes a nationwide love and obsession with jelly. She performed a basic tea ceremony for us, then we passed a comfortable night on tatami mats in the room above her cafe, indulging in a traditional onsen (hot tub) before bed. We left, calmed and refreshed a contrasting experience to the party atmosphere of Tokyo.
Heading South we experienced the futuristic cities of Japan oddly dotted with hidden temples, bright lights and casinos. With money running low again we searched for hosts but found many homes already full. Eventually Eri, a stylish Japanese girl with little English, agreed to put us up in Fukuoka. Sweaty, tired, and with a heightened awareness of our own body odours we arrived desperate for a shower but were led straight to a party burdened with rucksacks. This turned out to be a highlight of the trip and we left with an array of new friends. Of all the hosts, this experience had been the most intimate and enjoyable; we were spoilt with attention and good humour and I realised the benefits of picking less seasoned hosts who may welcome you as a curious novelty.
Staying with hosts in Nara and Fukuoka taught us that Yuji’s home was unusual even in the bizarre world of Couchsurfing. His guests have free run of his house when he’s at work. They arrive day or night thanks to the spare keys by the front door and invite friends around without request. Returning to Yuji’s before leaving Tokyo we discovered that some of the travellers had been staying for months, paying a recommended fee of 1000 yen (about £7 per night). This explained the pots of money lying around for willing “donations”. Although still extremely good value the thought struck me that perhaps Yuji was running a small tax-evading guest house, not quite in keeping with the Couchsurfing philosophy. Either a money making scam or a shockingly trusting faith in the goodness of travellers in need I cannot quite decide, but my judgment leans towards the latter. Considering that any one of the guests could clandestinely leave with the money pots and laptops stuffed in their rucksacks without raising an eyebrow I have to think that it is in fact a bewildering act of charity that strikes one as close to madness in the age of caution and suspicion by which most conduct their daily affairs.
Couchsufing can be an amazing facility with which to see the world, network, and promote cultural understanding – if used wisely. Prudence and care must be exercised when it comes to choosing a host or allowing guests to stay. It is wise to only Couchsurf with hosts who have had a large amount of positive feedback, and the same caution must be observed for those that may seek a nights rest in your home. You are never obligated to allow anyone to stay. Like everything in life it involves a degree of risk and uncertainty, and no doubt if abused it could lead to some dangerous situations. I wouldn’t recommend it for lone female travellers but every experience that I’ve had has been wholly pleasant and rewarding, reaffirming my belief in the inherent goodness of people. We can make an informed choice to invite travellers into our home for friendship and know we can benefit from the same hospitality in return. As the Couchsurfing mission goes; “Participate in Creating a Better World, One Couch at a Time.”
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