A spell in the bosom of the hostel

 People who have been travelling with me will have suffered my constant instance that we come up with a "philosophy of the holiday". This is just a grand way of saying that we should be clear about what we're looking/hoping for when we travel. If have a clear picture of what sort of activities, experiences, sensations and budget would constitute a philosophically ideal version of the holiday, then this will help us make a decision between, say, going on a whale-spotting trip or going to look at some ruins.

The idea of a "philosophical ideal" started for me with a conversation with German flatmate of mine about what the point of political philosophy was. He was explaining to me the philosophical idea of democracy being not that we vote for representatives once every five years then leave them to it, but rather that every decision that is made by society is arrived at by genuine consensus. After much debate, everyone is won round to the best way of doing something, and that is then the course that is followed. This, I replied, was absurd. How could you ever run a country like that? Aha, came the reply, that's a problem of implementation, not a problem of philosophy. That's what political scientists are for. The job of the philosopher is to come up with an ideal which, although it will never be achieved, can be used to assess whether a given real-world change moves us closer or further away from the ideal.

So it is with travelling. How can we decide between staying in a five-star hotel or slumming it in a hostel? They both seem attractive in very different ways. It's impossible to decide between two things which both have upsides if you don't have an idea of what you're aiming for from the holiday. This is a familiar idea for most people, but only as far as budget is concerned. We've got £1,000 to spend and let's just "have the most fun we can have for the money." But it also extends to every other aspect of the experience: do we want to be relaxed and live in comfort? Do we want to meet a thousand Eurobrat under-25s? Do we want to see as much of the country as possible, or do we want to get to know a place like a local knows it? Without this guiding philosophical ideal, even if it's unattainable, you're really just tossing a coin.

This is all a long and not-very-interesting way of introducing the fact that, after a couple of weeks of staying in various on-my-own accommodations, I've spent the last three days at Hostel Abraham, a veritable Piccadilly Circus of international young confused people looking to have a good time. I've been staying in a six-bed dorm and I must say it's been pretty fun. I met a Greek man with whom I instantly hit it off, and we did that thing where we attached ourselves to one another for two days then said goodbye forever. This is actually one of the big upsides of travelling, and it's something you definitely dont get if you live on your own in palatial but pale luxury.

I've also been thinking about what my philosophical ideal for this three month trip is. And it's clear: I want to learn as much Hebrew as I can, while spending no more than 50 per cent of the money in my bank account. This second constraint was described to me by French classmate this morning over a very generous free hostel breakfast: "You 'ave to understand 'ow money works. I was in Australia wiz 50 cents in my account, and I survived." Yeah, this was actually kind of inspiring. How did he do this? He agreed to get the hostel to give him free bed and board in exchange for two days a week of work. This was great for his English skills and great for his bank balance.

So As for my own philosophical travelling ideal, the two things I can do to really speed my language learning along are to be in choirs and to work for either free or for very cheap. As I've mentioned, I'm in a choir already: in fact I'm singing in Mozart's Requiem in East Jerusalem in two weeks' time (I have even been assigned a short solo!) But the choir is not the most accomplished musical outfit ever assembled, so maybe I should shop around? And maybe once my Hebrew course is finished, I should take my French classmate's advice and trade some labour for some accommation. And maybe, since Tel Aviv is both the most expensive and the most Eurobrat English-speaking place in Israel, maybe I should shop around location-wise too.

So I've decided: I'm going to start with a choir and work backwards. Where is the most fun-looking choir in the country? Does that place have a youth hostel? If so, I'll go there, join the choir and try and get work at the hostel in exchange for bed and (maybe) board. I don't know whether this is actually possible, but it's a fun idea and it beats endlessly searching for sublets in Tel Aviv, and part-time contracting jobs in London to pay for the expensive Tel Aviv sublets.

Until then, our Hebrew course continues apace, albeit slowed by the inevitable progress gradient that's opening up between the students. Some people are mad keen, doing flashcards, doing extra homework, reading ahead in the book, and listening to every Israeli they can get within earshot of, and some people either are not, or are not benefitting from these activities to the same extent. I think this is actually fine, and nowhere near as severe as it could be. And maybe it forces those of us who want to race ahead to really bed in the knowledge we encounter, rather than hoovering up the next thing and not really internalising anything. Maybe.

On a more practical note, I've got four nights in another hostel across town (this one has curtains across each bed. Luxury!) and then six nights in an incredibly central studio apartment with a giant part-covered terrace. Should be luxurious.

I've also done my first English-teaching volunteering session, which really needs a post of its own but for now let's just say that the kids are nine, a mix of Arab and Jewish (as far as I can tell) and extremely, let's say, energetic. There is a great deal of giggling and speaking in Hebrew. The fact that I can't understand this is, I think, a genuine advantage. The other volunteers are non-native speakers, all with seemingly some level of Hebrew. This means I'm a kind of "reason" to really speak English which otherwise would be a bit artificial. Ah well, I'm happy to play any role I'm given!