When I was 19, I moved to Paris. I arrived by way of Rome and Tunisia with nothing more than an Eddie Bauer backpack. My mom sent forward two large boxes with my “necessaries” to a family friend who lived in Suresnes, a suburb of Paris. I retrieved them a few weeks after I landed my first place. In the meanwhile, I stayed in a youth hostel.

Keep in mind, this was long before the day of Airbnb. There were three choices (okay, four if you include the train station floor — which we did): hotel, hostel, or a friend.

Fast forward 30 years. When I decided to travel to Iceland solo (the first real solo journey in a very long time), I decided it would be a great way not only to save money, but to meet other travelers as well. And that’s what no one really tells you. The unspoken reason to stay in a hostel is to be social.