Jericho Hills Campground = Dublin?!?

I don’t know why.. perhaps it's the dampness- everything smells musty and chlorine-ish. Every night I lower my weary body into the bunk bed in a dorm full of girls I hardly know with a small blanket that barely guards against the drafty windows. Similar to the small lobby at camp the hostel has a TV room shoved full of shabby couches and pictures of stuffy old men and buildings. People build quick relationships similar to those beloved 1 week camp friendships. They seem very precarious- "we may or may not meet again". Oh yes, and the sound of alarm clocks buzzing and 12 sleepy heads raising in protest. That wonderful pleasure of living out of a suitcase and trying to feel comfortable in a bathroom that isn't yours (did I mention a toilet that only works 1/3 of the time and a shower that runs out of cold water?). Through all of these annoyances, memories that last a lifetime.. *wink*