Impressions of a worker's hostel

A day in the hostel costed less than 10$ (... Ft).
The interior of the building was rather nice and tidy, much better that I expected. (My mother made me believe that in a worker's hostel there are cockroaches. It is not true. She thought that because my father lived in a worker's hostel in the early seventies, and at that time these places weren't the safest ones, he had not too pleasant memories about thefts and heard about fist-fights, so my parents thought every hostel must be hopelessly raunchy. This one was a good one, at least.)
There were three single beds in our room (each for every guest), with newly washed sheets; a table with some chairs, a tiny tap.
I occupied my bed and arranged my things - which meant I put my food out of the windowsill (it was cold enough outside to keep the food fresh; in the kitchen I could find a refridgerator but I should paid for using it), then pulled my towel, pyjamas, shower gel and toothbrush out of my bag and locked all the other things in a wardrobe (I didn't dare leave anything unlocked; my parents warned me that someone could steal my properties easily in a dubious safety of a worker's hostel), and headed for the bathroom.
It was surprisingly modern and comfortable, with shining white tiles and hot water. I do love hot water, I could let it wash my skin for hours. I didn't stay too long; I was cautious because of other guests (although I could bolt the door of the bathroom), and besides, I didn't want to be in the way of lady guests who'd like to take a shower. This worry was futile: there were no lady guests with the exception of Galina, our former room-mate and me.