Sometimes the place you’re staying in can make all the difference

The first few days of my trip through northern Argentina actually went pretty well. I stayed the first two nights in a hostel quite far from the city centre of San Salvador de Jujuy, and because it was crazy cold, I decided to take it slow, stay cosy in bed to keep myself warm and watch the World Cup. The next day I went into the city centre, worked from a coworking space all day, and in the evening I watched Argentina play. They won, so far so good. 😊

After that, I decided to go to Purmamarca because, honestly, I was done with the cold and really needed warmer weather. Purmamarca is such a beautiful little town, and the hostel was fine too. There weren’t many people around, and I could work in the common room without too many distractions, so again, no problem.

After two nights, I went to Maimará. I was slowly starting to get a bit tired, but I was still doing okay. I stayed in a shared room, but I was the only one there, which actually felt great. I could walk around a bit, work, read and go to bed early without really having to interact with anyone.

The next day, however, people arrived in my room. It was a group of people around 50 years old who were planning to do a hike the following day, and they were really nice about it and invited me to come along. The thing was, I was already getting a bit tired, and I didn’t really have the energy to be social and speak Spanish all day.

So I told them I wouldn’t join the hike, but that I did need to go to Tilcara anyway and could drive there with them.

That was actually one of the first moments where I consciously gave a boundary: I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to do the hike. And that was fine.

Eventually we went to Tilcara and visited the Pucará together, which was nice, but I was also really glad to know they were going off to do the hike and I could go back to the hostel.

I thought: Okay, finally. I can have some time to myself and recharge.

Except... I was staying in a shared room again, and the volunteer working at the hostel was also sleeping in that room.

I really just wanted the room to myself for one hour. Just one hour where nobody was talking to me, nobody needed anything from me, and I didn’t have to be social.

At the same time, my allergies were starting to bother me more and more, and the dry air wasn’t helping either. I really needed to eat something, so I quickly showered and went to a restaurant. Luckily, nobody was there, so I could sit down, order some food, and eat by myself. I even became a little more social again and tried to have a small conversation in Spanish with the owner.

Afterwards I went back to the hostel and tried to work, but there were a lot of people in the common room, and they kept talking to me while I was trying to concentrate. I tried to ignore it, but it was difficult, so eventually I decided to go into the centre to do some exploring instead.

That didn’t really work either.

There were so many people, so many sounds, and so much happening around me that I quickly became completely overwhelmed and agitated, and eventually I just needed to go back to the hostel. I got some snacks and water, put my headphones in, turned on Young Sheldon and basically used the show and my headphones to close myself off from everything around me for a while.

The next day was a little better, and I don’t even remember exactly what I did that day, but I remember wandering around and finding a nice place to have lunch. When I came back, the same people tried to be social with me again, and because I was in a better mood, I went along.

We went to a peña that evening, and although I stayed longer than I wanted, I eventually left earlier than the others because I was tired. So even though I didn’t completely listen to the first feeling of wanting to go home, I still decided to leave when I felt I had had enough.

The next day, however, they wanted to go to Garganta del Diablo together.

By then, I was simply running low on energy.

It wasn’t just the fact that I was tired. I was already quite socially exhausted; I was still dealing with my allergies, and now I was going to spend another day with people who spoke Spanish and wanted to be social with me all the time.

It became too much.

That morning I finally told them that I needed some time to myself.

I was having a meltdown, and I cried while trying to explain that I just needed a moment alone.

Luckily, they understood and left me more or less alone. I put my headphones in, listened to rain sounds, and focused on my breakfast rather than reacting to everything happening around me.

And slowly, I regulated myself again.

After some time, I felt much better and eventually had enough energy to socialise with them again and still go on the trip.

That whole experience made me realise something I hadn’t really thought about before: the place you’re staying in can have a huge impact on how much energy you actually have left for travelling.

There wasn’t necessarily anything terribly wrong with the hostel. It was a normal hostel. But there wasn’t really anywhere for me to retreat.

And even the layout of the hostel became exhausting for me. The bathroom was outside, which meant that every morning, before I had even properly woken up, I had to walk through the common room where people were already having breakfast. I couldn’t just slowly wake up, shower, get myself together and then decide whether I had the energy to be social. I had to smile, say good morning and be nice before I had even had a chance to properly become a person for the day.

Eventually I decided I needed to change my environment.

I found a little glamping spot. The room was small, but honestly, I didn’t care. It was private. And that made such a huge difference.

The bathrooms were outside too, but I didn’t have to cross a common room to get there. I just had to walk down the hallway, take three steps outside, and I was already in the big bathroom with several showers and toilets. I think I saw maybe two people there during the two days I stayed.

Breakfast was different too. Everyone had their own table, and nobody expected me to interact with them. Saying " hola” and “buen día” was about all the social energy I needed to spend.

And suddenly I felt so much better.

As a neurodivergent traveller, I’m learning that choosing accommodation isn’t just about price, location or whether the hostel has good reviews.

And sometimes, yes, the answer might mean spending more money on a private room. For a long time I would have seen that as an unnecessary luxury. Now I’m starting to see it differently.