To Surf or Not to Surf: My Experience CouchSurfing in Australia

I tried CouchSurfing on an erratic whim. I was sitting in Dunsborough, doing some research into how to go north. I had decided to fly from Perth to Broome when I couldn’t find any rides on GumTree, and I thought, “I’ll just have a look at CouchSurfing, see who’s up there.” Friends of mine had had great experiences, and I waited to amass a bunch before I even thought to test it out; eventually, these hit critical mass and Broome ended up my testing ground.

In Broome, there weren’t too many CouchSurfer hosts – a family, some people without profile pictures, and then one guy with 20 positive references who said he liked good food and camping.

Perhaps ignoring the better half of my judgment, the part that said, perhaps quite reasonably, Don’t go strange places with strange people, I wrote to him and asked if he’d like to go camping when I got to Broome. I apologized for the lack of references (being new to the site and all), but promised him I would make him a good meal.

In most cases, of course, this leads to great adventure. I’m back in Sydney with some friends right now, and one girl we had dinner with last night told us about her nineteen year-old cousin who decided to CouchSurf in India for a month. Apparently, she’d stay in these little villages and all the townspeople would stop by to see the crazy white girl. She had a blast.

I’m not sure if I would CouchSurf in many countries, but there’s something about Australia that lends itself well to the network. Backpackers are looking for a way to lower the cost of housing, and Australians, especially in small towns, are really trusting people. Maybe it’s because there are so few people in this country, you actually have to rely on each other. Here, if you get a flat on some outback road, everyone (though “everyone” will not be many people at all) stops to help.

In Australia, you pump your gas and then you pay for it.

I stayed with friends or friends-of-friends in Sydney, Perth, and Kununurra. These are some of my happiest travel moments, when you see a face that feels so familiar, and you swap stories about your mutual friend.

But in many cities, I knew no one, and I wanted off the backpacker circuit. So I tried CouchSurfing in Broome, in Alice Springs, and in Adelaide. My experience in Broome was weird but, ultimately, not unsafe. And because of it, I got to go camping on an empty stretch of beautiful beach and I met a couple girls I would later road trip with for four days.

In Alice Springs, my host picked me up from the train station, shared stories about travels through California, gave me a bed with clean sheets, and let me store my stuff at his apartment while I went on the tour. (Yes, in Australia you also can do things like leave your computer with unknown people and have it be there upon return).

In Adelaide, my host there also picked me up from the train station, invited some friends over, and we drank South Australia wines all night. Maybe a few too many – both she and I could barely move the next morning! To cure the hangover, we went for a walk at the beach and practiced my French (she’s a French teacher from Poland, originally). Then she took me to the airport. How cool is that?

What I really appreciate is that CouchSurfing gets me off the backpacker circuit and in touch with people who actually live the city each and every day. And it gives me enough information usually to pick the people with similar sensibilities – who appreciate a good meal and who don’t down a six-pack every night.

When chosen wisely, a host feels like that friend-of-a-friend in Sydney or in Perth who is willing to let you stay for a few nights and show you around town. When I meet whomever I’m staying with, it’s like we fall into conversation right away – no awkward silences, no nothing. Just chatter chatter, about life, love, and travel.

CouchSurfing can have its challenges too. If you’re needing some solitary time, CouchSurfing may not be appropriate. It thrives on human exchange, on sharing stories, and getting to know one another. If you just want a cheap place to stay, forget it too. The point is to interact, to want to know local people, and it’s always nice to leave a little thank you.

That “thank you” doesn’t have to cost you anything. While truffles or a bottle of wine are never rejected, you might also just do the dishes, sweep the house, or clean the cat’s litterbox. I like to think about how I have no obligations right now, no job and no sense of too-much-to-do-too-little-time; I think back to how I felt when I did, and I pick some small way I can make life easier on my hosts.

I personally have found a wonderful zen in washing dishes. (I know, every roommate I’ve ever had is now utterly shocked upon reading this.)

CouchSurfing attracts the like-minded: those who have benefitted from the kindness of others and want to give in return. Those who love travel and want to share it with others. The people I’ve stayed with have tinges of dissatisfaction with their sedentary life, are quite possibly looking for a little spice, a new story.

Some are looking for romance, and I worry about CouchSurfing for this reason. My host in Adelaide put it smartly. She said, “No matter how cute my host or my guest is, I want those two things – CouchSurfing and dating – to be very clearly separate. Otherwise it messes up the whole system.”

And I agree. You’ll find houses of party boys looking to host groups of party girls. They make their intentions clear on their profiles, and if you want that, you write to them. I don’t. I look for people who seem on top of their game and who are simply interested in the joy of a novel social exchange.