Blog Post, October 2011
Yesterday morning I awoke to the sound of Kookaburra the
Rooster crowing beneath my window. Refreshed, I rolled out of bed and
pulled back the patchwork curtain. From the large window of my own
personal treehouse I surveyed the scene below me – the chicken coop, the
other elevated cabins, and the most artistic compost outhouses I'd ever
seen, all surrounded by towering cypresses and pines. If you're ever in
southeast Georgia, do yourself a favor and stay a few nights at the
Hostel in the Forest.
Things were slowing down at the Hostel for the one night I stayed – there were seven staff members and only two guests. Yes, the hippie vibe is strong, but the staff all have a calming way about them, and we spent a lovely evening around the camp fire spinning glow toys and hula hooping after chowing down on a home-cooked vegetarian meal of stuffed portabellos. If you ask the staff where they are from, without fail they will reply, “I'm from here,” and you can absolutely tell that no matter how long or short their stay has been, they do consider this tranquil place their home. The new manager's story reads like a Hollywood script: clean-cut Yankee city boy relocates to rural Georgia to whip hippie hostel into shape. Life lessons and challenges both physical and psychological ensue. In his own words, “I didn't even know I needed this place until I came here.”
Hostel in the Forest
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| The view out my window. |
Things were slowing down at the Hostel for the one night I stayed – there were seven staff members and only two guests. Yes, the hippie vibe is strong, but the staff all have a calming way about them, and we spent a lovely evening around the camp fire spinning glow toys and hula hooping after chowing down on a home-cooked vegetarian meal of stuffed portabellos. If you ask the staff where they are from, without fail they will reply, “I'm from here,” and you can absolutely tell that no matter how long or short their stay has been, they do consider this tranquil place their home. The new manager's story reads like a Hollywood script: clean-cut Yankee city boy relocates to rural Georgia to whip hippie hostel into shape. Life lessons and challenges both physical and psychological ensue. In his own words, “I didn't even know I needed this place until I came here.”
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| My treehouse "Elmo", the original on the property. |
I myself felt very at home here,
and from the moment I arrived I felt the inclination to pick up some
tools and lend a hand. The Hostel, started in 1975, requires constant
upkeep, and they often rely on the skills of the guests to keep it in
good nick. If I can find the time I'd love to go back down and do some
work exchange for a week or two.
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