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I remember the first time I ever booked a hostel room. My dad nonchalantly informed me that he was not, in fact, Liam Neeson — ergo, he would not be taking names through Europe to find me when I got kidnapped. Fair enough, I thought.

My dad’s c’est la vie attitude towards my inevitable disappearance aside, the exchange shows us that hostels sometimes get a bad rap. But for me, they’re the only places I stay when I travel. And that’s not only because they’re easier on the wallet.

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