OBAN AGAIN

August, 2015

After a flight, an overnight 9 hour bus and an early morning train ride we finally arrived back in Oban, Scotland. We walked through the door at Backpackers Plus hostel just before lunchtime to be greeted by a deserted common room. Everyone was busy with the daily work shift. Aurore peered out from behind the reception desk and moments later we were enveloped in a big hug, like only days had passed and not entire month. We were home.

After a warm reunion we escorted ourselves downstairs to the volunteer living quarters and into our old dorm room. The blinds were drawn, it was pitch black and we could hear the soft snores of people sleeping. Our first introduction to late sleep-ins and afternoon naps that were soon to become a regular occurrence over the next month for us too. I saw three sleeping shapes, so we quickly deposited our things under our bunk (I shot-gunned the bottom bunk) and made our way back out into the common room.

We made plans with Aurore and her boyfriend to meet our good friends Florine and Aurelie who were now working at the hostel right across the street. That afternoon we walked in the soft Scottish rain to our favourite seafood shack to grab some lunch, which we ate at the other hostel with wine and caught up on missed adventures.

“So, tell me your story?”

That evening, sitting across the table from the new team of volunteers, Marie a kind-hearted french Canadian girl asked us this question. I was nervous again, we were meeting the team of volunteers for the first time and I was shy. So I mumbled some half formed story of where we’ve travelled so far. Marie then asked us if we were stranded on an Island, what three things would we take with us? And then, if we could have one final meal, what would it be? I giggled at all of the questions but began to feel much more at ease. This girl with the kind eyes and all the questions was bringing me out of my shell.

Our friend Jason was there which was nice to see another familiar face. And surprisingly a lot of the team knew who we were from snippets other volunteers had told them, in particular lovely Kimberly who shared lots of nice words about us before she left to go back to the states. It was a girl called Laurine’s final night on our very first night, the usual way it works with rotation of volunteers. So we all went out for goodbye and welcome drinks, and I tried to memorise all the new names and faces.

The following day after finishing up our first cleaning shift back at work (I was surprisingly happy to be making bunkbed and dancing around with my headphones in again!), we were introduced to the latest project the volunteer group was working on. Building the best raft for the annual Oban Raft Race. The boys were hard at work bringing their plan to life, with the use of ply-board, wood and empty plastic washing detergent drums from the laundry as floats.

 With handmade oars from recycled table legs, the result was a thing of beauty!  They boys carried the vessel to the ocean as the sun was almost set, and the rest of us followed to cheer them on or laugh as they sunk…! Adi, Adam, Quentin and Jason were the pirates in charge of steering the ship. They lowered the beast into the water, and when it didn’t sink they all jumped aboard and paddled off into the sunset. Secretly we were all wishing for a spectacular sinking where they’d all end up in the freezing Scottish sea… But we were also cheering from delight that the boat was ready for the race!

Two days later and we were ready for race day. In typical Scottish fashion it was a horribly cold day with intermittent showers and gale force winds. We rugged up in all the warm jumpers we could find in the hostel lost and found box and made black pirate headbands to wear in support of our boys. The array of handmade rafts in the race were incredible! Each one with it’s own theme and style. Some of my favourites were the mattress raft, and the raft made from metal drums that had a huge water cannon with a motor that they were shooting everyone with!

Equipt with pirate Backpackers Plus flag, blow-up palm tree and parrot mascot our raft looked the part out on the seas (oh and to the tunes of Pirates of the Caribbean that was blasting on the portable speaker tapped to the mast!). We as the cheer squad ran along the shore shouting encouragement as the boys overtook the competition after a slow start. They came fifth! It was so much fun. We mounted their trophy in the hostel kitchen so their legacy will forever remain.

After a month of absence, I was surprised how effortlessly we returned to our routine. Wake up late, scoff breakfast in the 10 minutes before work starts, work our cleaning shift for a few hours, make lunch and eat with our friends, take a afternoon walk/nap/board game and get ready for dinner.

And after being a little nervous about joining an entirely new volunteer group, we made friends instantly. A group of strangers from all corners of the earth became our close family. We just clicked. It was SO much fun, more fun than I could have imagined. Every second night we would all gather around the common room table to play card games and drink cheap cider (frosty jacks!), we’d venture out to a pub to dance until past midnight, and come home again to talk and laugh into the very early hours of the morning, sometimes only having one or two hours sleep before we had to get up for work again! Hungover with tired eyes we’d shoot each other happy grins across the table while receiving our cleaning jobs for the day.

And after work we’d all return back to bed, reading and napping all afternoon long. Some days in a dorm of eight of us, every single person would be in bed asleep at 2pm! It was this lovely sort of comforting afternoon nap that I think I’ll always miss. I’ve never been the kind of girl who stays up late, drinks too much cider and dances the night away, but in Oban I let go of all my inhibitions and just had ridiculous amounts of fun.

Each night in-between we’d have a hungover movie night, half of us cozied up in the bunks and the rest snuggled up with blankets and pillows on the floor. We’d watch scary movies, or something nostalgic like Toy Story (always a vote) and Luis who was working night shift would surprise us with popcorn. In the quiet moments I would look around at my new friends and wonder just how we had grown so close in such a short space of time. From slow afternoons keeping each other company on laundryshift, sharing stories, dreams and fears over cups of tea. Dancing and laughing all night long. Teaching each other jokes and sayings from our hometowns. I already considered these wonderful people some of my best friends.

The little things I never want to forget:

• Long live Frosty Jacks
• Adam’s wonderful rendition of “That’s not a knife, This is a knife!”
• The night Marie somehow dropped her iPod down a pipe in the laundry and Adi and Adam had to crawl under the floor of the church to get it.
• Laundry parties with the disco ball
• The odds of having a fellow Adelaidean arrive, Melissa! and our resulting D&M’s
• Teaching Adam and Adi the meaning of ‘Heaps good’ and it’s wonderful array of uses
• Laughing as the boys ate pasta for every meal
• Silvia and her tomatoes
• Quentin the card master
• Meeting a Swede who actually works at IKEA
• Marie’s wisdom
• Working and laughing with Romane
• When Nikola’s brother sent home-made alcohol from Czech Republic (slivovitz) through the mail
• 1 pound pizza’s from Farmfoods
• Aurore’s cookies (and cakes and anything that girl cooks basically.)
• Hungover afternoon naps surrounded by friends
• Playing endless free pool in the common room
• Dreading if you were chosen to clean the Super Plus building
• The Dice Game
• My bunk, even if it was the worst one right by the door
• And so much more.

 

But all good things come to an end in this life of travel. And one month went too fast. Before we knew it, it was time for us to leave. The day before our last, we were sitting on the floor packing our bags and I could hear the voices from new volunteers who had just arrived, the natural rotation of Oban. Marie was giving the tour our living quarters, and I heard her ask “So, tell me your story?”
A smile crept up on my lips as I heard the muffled reply as they continued down the hall. Our story at Oban might have come to an end, but these walls had seen so many before us and will see so many more to come.

We woke early, I gave Marie my promised goodbye hug silently so as to not wake the others, we said our goodbyes to Peter at reception, wrote our goodbye note to drop off for the girls across the road, and finally we left our mark on the hostel walls. Along with all the other memories from other travellers who will forever hold Backpackers Plus in their hearts, like we will ours.

Our time in Oban will forever be some of our favourite memories from this entire year. But onward and upward, we were off on the next chapter of our adventure.