The City of Couchsurfing -- Saint Andrews and Dundee, Scotland

I'm starting this post from a community coffee shop in Oban, Scotland. The room is small and packed full of people, all enjoying donation based coffee and pastries. Posters for permaculture, gay pride, and mental health services hang on the walls. A sign on the table tells me that this cafe is run entirely by volunteers and relies solely on donations to stay open.

"Give what you can," reads the sign to my left.

A singer songwriter strums his guitar and sings a traditional song that tells the history of Scotland. He tells jokes in between verses and encourages all of us to join in on the choruses.

I could sit here all day. 

The singer is taking a "wee break" and I can reel in my attention back to writing. Boy's out of his walk in the rain, and I'm taking the time to post as many blogs as I can.


There are free tampons in the bathroom. Because (unknown to me) tampons are taxed heavily in this country, and an average woman will spend 38 days working to pay for her tampons.

That's bonkers. Just crazy. Thousands of dollars spent on feminine hygiene. 

Boy and I hitched into Oban this morning. We'd spent the night in Spean Bridge, a little village close to Fort William, with a lovely couple from Scotland and Ecuador. We shared a dinner, wherein Boy and I chopped various vegetables and referred to Helen as "Chef". They owned a dignified, sixteen year old cat named Sooty Yot, whom we cuddled relentlessly.


I just... want a cat. A cuddly cat of my own. 

We caught a ride with Claire, a middle aged woman who was on her way to Glencoe for a bit of Geocaching (which is like treasure hunting for adults). Our second ride was with a couple from Glasgow who were planning to kayak around Connel for the afternoon. Third ride was with an English couple whose car was absolutely packed to bursting, but who managed to make room for us, nonetheless.

I would visit Scotland simply for the hitching. This is the best kind of adventuring. 

Boy and I struggled to find a place in Perth, Scotland. I'd hoped to stay with a friend of mine I'd met in Germany, but she already had visitors. And all the couchsurfing hosts in Perth had already declined my requests.


"So... wild camping? Ugh... but Perth is a pretty big place. I don't think it would make sense to have to walk for hours to leave the city... with these giant bags... and then walk back. But I'm not sure what our other options are."

Our last day in York, I received two invitations to Dundee, a city just east of Perth.

"That would be incredible," I exclaimed to Boy. "But... I'm pretty sure that neither of these people have read my request properly. They're both single guys with not a lot of references who sent me the invitation as if it was just me staying... I'll write them back and ask if they can take both of us, though. Gah... I'll just be so disappointed if they say they can't take us... and I'll be thrilled to pieces if they can. I don't want to be this affected by just two people like this... I feel like I'm basing my idea of the goodness of the human race off of courchsurfing. Like, is the whole of humanity only going to be generous if they think they can use me? When in reality, it's just these two guys on couchsurfing. Goodness. I'm awesome at generalizing and catastrophizing."

Both of the couchsurfing young men who invited me to stay ever so quickly declined when they discovered I was coming with a partner. But I decided to send out one last minute request to another fellow in Dundee.

"Yeah man, don't worry about it," was Andrew's response. Just like that. He'd have another person staying Sunday, but that was it. And we were welcome to stay for as long as we'd like.

"What a roller coaster!" I exhaled. "I found us a place to stay!"

We spent Friday night in Sunderland with Joe, a twenty year old journalist/chef/everything else. He made us dinner, shared a bottle of wine and we chatted about everything from bears in Colorado to immigration issues in Europe.

As there is a great deal of nothing to see in Sunderland, Boy and Joe and I went on a quick stroll, ate an enormous English breakfast, and then took the tube, bus and train to Dundee.

We disembarked in Dundee at 9:45, walked up a rather large hill and passed by a Tesco.

"I want cider..." I gazed longingly into the shop.

"Should we buy some?" Boy asked, trying to be supportive of my love for cider. Which sometimes interferes with his love for wine.

"Well, should we buy it now, or should we ask Andrew what he likes to drink and then run back and get some?"

"Good idea. Let's wait."

We walked past raucous pub after uproarious pub, music blaring into the street and light glinting off of amber pints of beer and cider. 

Seems like everyone in the whole of Dundee is out drinking...

We  met Andrew at his home just a few minutes walk outside the city center. When asked what he likes to drink and if we could pick up something at the shop to share, he told us that it was too late. That Scotland has a law wherein shops aren't allowed to sell alcohol before ten in the morning or after ten in the evening. This is the government's attempt to crack down on the binge drinking culture so pervasive in Great Britain.

So instead of cider, we drank tea, chatted for a bit, and then Andrew nonchalantly gave us his bed while he slept on couch.

"When me and my ex were couchsurfing in Spain, one of our hosts gave us his bed. And that was the host we remembered. We were always like, "You remember that guy who gave us his bed?" So I decided that whenever couples stay here, they get the bed."

As Boy says, the couchsurfing.com comunity is like a city. There's going to be a lot of generous, open people like Andrew, and there are going to be a lot of creepy, manipulative "sexsurfers" like Klaus. I need to stop expecting everyone on couchsurfing to be Andrews and I need to not become too discouraged by the Klauses. Regardless of how frequently or infrequently I encounter either of them.

Boy and I spent a lazy Sunday, meandering through the rain, squatting at cafes and trying haggis for the first time.

I feel like I've just reached an important life milestone. First time tying ones own shoes, first time riding a bike without training wheels, first time hitchhiking, first time eating haggis. Sheep lungs, you are delicious, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. 

Andrew made Boy, me and another German couchsurfer named Florian a delicious dinner of rice and pork and we settled into the comfortable couch for a night of watching disturbing documentaries.

Boy and I followed Andrew to Saint Andrews the next day, an idyllic neighboring town where our host works as a marine biologist.

I laughed like a twelve year old when I saw this sign.

We met Andrew for lunch, where he brewed us coffee, introduced us to his lab and gave us a DNA sample kit to take home as a souvenir.

I guess in a way, I'm glad couchsurfing.com is a community like any other city. A community full of all sorts of people who have every kind of motivation. While I'd definitely prefer everyone be an Andrew, the fact that so many aren't helps me to really cherish easy generosity like his. To fully appreciate what a beautiful thing it is. But at the same time, don't think we need bad in the world in order to appreciate good. I don't think we need dark to see light or winter to enjoy summer or any of that rot. I think that people who are aware and participating fully in life will appreciate good in and of itself, and not just because it "isn't bad". I don't like bacon because it isn't a can of cold beans. I like bacon because it's bacon.