Thank you, Messie

Still filled with farewell sadness, we boarded the ferry in Victoria, which was supposed to take us away from Canada to Port Angeles (USA) in 1.5 hours. During the journey, we thought about our experiences and encounters in Canada and how we would henceforth see wine with different eyes (or should we say in this case ‘drink it with different mouths’?). Moreover, we were about to face the US immigration process. But here we were surprised: just before boarding the ferry on the Canadian side, US customs officers checked our passports and visas or Esta forms. The only question they asked us was why we wanted to travel to the USA. Clearly bored by our mundane answer ‘Holiday’, they quickly took a photo for a change, and then we were allowed to board the ferry. The 1.5-hour ride was used by US customs to verify the data. This has the advantage that upon arrival, you only need to hand over your passport and simply state how long you intend to stay in the USA, and you're already in the States. Aside from the EU borders, this was the easiest entry into a foreign country so far. We hadn’t expected that!

Port Angeles makes a friendly impression. Near the harbor, there are many nice bars, restaurants, and other shops that we couldn't fully appreciate, because after all, we had to go to our Couchsurfing host Lenny (name changed). So far, we knew that Lenny is a retiree who owns a very large property where he has set up tents and small trailers to welcome as many Couchsurfers as possible. He understands this as an act of Christian charity, as he has time and space and wants to help travelers. This way, he doesn’t need to travel himself but prefers to hear the stories of his guests. Additionally, he has set up a kitchen in a tent on his property for meals. That sounded good, unusual, nice, and a little quirky. So we took the bus, which is free in Port Angeles (!), to Lenny. He lives far enough out that we had a 25-minute walk ahead of us. On this walk, we passed by various wooden houses with and without barns, as well as with and without dogs and chicken, and unfortunately, sometimes even election campaign signs ('Make America great again').

The backpacks were starting to feel heavy on our shoulders when we finally arrived. We stood in front of a completely overgrown property. On this property stood an old, rundown house that was obviously uninhabited, a trailer in the same condition, and a barn. We wandered around a bit until we discovered that the property extended further behind a fence. In front of a very nicely painted cabin with a hummingbird sat Lenny. After greeting each other, we looked around. There were several tents and trailers that could be envisioned as a kind of mini-shack. Everywhere lay junk scattered about, incredible supplies of canned goods, numerous packages of cleaning and disinfectant supplies, boxes, toppled washing machines, old vehicles, and upholstered furniture. You can imagine the property as a mix between a large rundown lot, a junkyard, and a camping site long abandoned. Lenny reported that he was 80 years old, had worked in a paper mill, had two daughters with whom he no longer had contact, and that he had a lot of work with the property. He himself does not live in the house, as it is too cluttered and decrepit. He sleeps in a trailer and cooks in the cooking tent. In the cooking tent lay numerous utensils scattered on the floor. Also, there were astonishingly many supplies of certain foods and cleaning supplies, and to our great surprise, there was also a piano. That evening, a rat was scurrying among the supplies in the kitchen. Lenny told us that he had two lovely lady dogs and also owned chickens. He introduced us to the two terriers Maggy and Sabrina (names unchanged), who were indeed very sweet, alert, and cuddly, but unfortunately smelled quite bad. Additionally, one of them kept scratching herself. When they spotted the rat, the two had a task. Lenny is genuinely good with the dogs and had taught them a lot.

Lenny mentioned that he sometimes hosts up to 200 Couchsurfers in a year. Each time, he sticks a pin on the world map in the country/city from which the guests come. He also photographs them, and the guests always write nice words in the guestbook. Proudly, he showed us the book with the quotes and photos of the guests who were always grinning from ear to ear. Mrs. Waas knew one thing for sure: she would not be able to grin like that in the photo. She found this accommodation very questionable. Mr. Ärmel, who was already accustomed to quite a bit from his workplace, could see in Lenny the eccentric but lovable messie right away.

That evening we sat together a bit longer, keeping the dogs from jumping on our laps while chatting with Lenny. To top it off, he mentioned that he once had a Couchsurfer die at his place. ‘Well, that takes guts,’ thought Mrs. Waas. But Lenny could also explain how that happened. It was about a young man who was addicted to alcohol and drugs and had no roof over his head. He was allowed to stay with Lenny for a few weeks, which truly expressed a living form of charity and deserves respect. Unfortunately, this man had taken too many drugs one evening. Lenny described multiple times that the man was already quite stiff and cold when he found him, and he immediately called the police.

Then came the moment that Mrs. Waas feared the most: the tour of the guest trailer and the bathroom trailer with compost toilet.

It was far less dramatic than Mrs. Waas would have expected. Although the windows in the sleeping trailer were covered with cardboard and an old baby blanket, which was odd, he had prepared the bed well and cleanly. There was also light and plenty of outlets in the trailer. The fact that it was a bit too cold and damp for our taste in October could not be blamed on Lenny. After all, he lived like this 365 days a year. The ‘bathroom’ was also in better shape than suspected, but still took some getting used to. There was a light switch with a timer so that one could set how long they wanted it illuminated in there. The shower looked alright but was not tested by us. Otherwise, there was all sorts of stuff lying around on the floor that didn’t belong there. In the toilet, there was a bag attached that was supposed to catch the waste. Afterward - and Lenny had written this directly on the wall in the ‘bathroom’ with a felt-tip pen - one was supposed to pour a cup of some kind of ecological kitty litter afterward. But where could this kitty litter be...? Finally, Mr. Ärmel discovered it somewhere outside and brought it into the bathroom.

It took us both some time to fall asleep. It was cold and a bit damp, and we also had to process the impressions. Mrs. Waas caught herself thinking that hopefully Lenny would not have to tell the next day that two Couchsurfers had died at his place. But: the next morning we woke up, got dressed quickly, visited the questionable toilet once more, and discovered outside a full forgotten and unfortunately still open toilet bag. Let's call it getting accustomed... We graciously declined Lenny's offer for breakfast. Then he wanted to drive us to Port Angeles to our car rental. We just needed to clear out his car a bit so we could find space in it. Done! And in the end came the obligatory photo and a few lines for the guestbook. When writing in a book, one reflects and reviews their experiences. And suddenly our perspective changed (especially Mrs. Waas'. Mr. Ärmel had been more positive from the beginning): Lenny, a friendly old man who welcomes everyone, who even took in a homeless drug-addicted man whose life, unfortunately, has spiraled out of control, who feels lonely because his family has turned away from him, who can no longer grasp his own life, but still provides a happy life for his dogs and chickens, who has yet to process that a man died at his place, who has furnished the guest trailer the best of all trailers/tents, who is so proud of his guests, who loves to connect with people from all over the world and of all ages, this man deserved a nice note in our guestbook and a photo of us that he can proudly show to others. So we posed in front of his camera and smiled like two honey cake horses.