Old Town Funicular

Getting to the hostel turned into a long ordeal for me and my brother. We arrived at the train station at 11pm and walked about .75 mile to the hostel in the dark, not knowing the area. We were exhausted and excited to sleep, then found out the key had to be collected near the station. We walked back, and by midnight our phones were dead and we were lost in a huge unfamiliar place. We were close to sleeping in the streets when some drunk but very kind locals came along. One of their mothers offered to drive us to the station, and we were so grateful. We searched around for the key pickup spot, which was hidden from view behind closed shops and restaurants, with no hostel sign. At last we found a kind desk clerk named Marta. We explained how much trouble we’d had finding her, and she was glad and thankful we made it. We shared where we were from, and she said she was from Spain. The complimentary cabs to the separate hostel had stopped running, and our hearts sank at the thought of another walk. Marta found one different cab that could take us. After a daunting 2.5 hours spent finding the key and getting back to the hostel, we finally got into bed and fell asleep. Without Marta’s help, I think we might have spent the night on the street. She explained everything clearly, gave us the key, and found us a ride when there didn’t seem to be one. I’d give the hostel 0 out of 5 for failing to make clear that key pickup wasn’t at the hostel and for hiding the pickup spot so well. That’s beyond unacceptable. Marta’s kindness brought my rating up to 4 stars, and she’s why I’d still recommend the hostel despite how disorganized it is. THANK YOU MARTA!