The "Local"

The Prescott was a funny ol' hostel. Located way out of town in what appeared to be a quintessential slice of American suburbia know as Everett it was the oddest place to have a hostel. American hostels are unlike anywhere else I've been. They're few and far between, Major cities having just a splattering (for example, Boston and Chicago both have a grand total of 3 each), compared to somewhere like Barcelona where the choices number over 70 and unlike their European counterparts, tend to be well away from the action.

The hostel itself was actually pretty nice, decent bathroom, free Internet, a comfy TV area and so on but its poor location really let it down. The "5 minute bus journey" that we'd had to take from the station to the hostel had been more like 20 minutes and those buses would stop running at midnight making a proper night out on the town almost impossible.

After grabbing some pizza with the 3 Scots we went in search of a bar. The man running the hostel had told us there was a bar next door, "it looks like a church but just knock on the door and they'll let you in". Ok, seemed reasonable enough, right. Only problem, it WAS a church! We knocked and poked our head round the door only to find 4 old men sat round what looked like an old school dinner table drinking beer from cans. This, we decided, wasn't for us! It was like nothing I'd ever seen before, and something I really never wanted to see again!

Apparently Everett is rather lacking in the bar department. After walking around the streets, one end to the other for about 15 minutes we eventually came across a Chinese restaurant...with a bar attached! There were a few people scattered around the tables and some spare seats at the bar which we took up. A couple of beers later and they were already calling time, the bar eventually closing at the ungodly hour of 10.30pm. An early night was probably needed anyway!