Bookmark/Search this post with:
Story and illustration by Robin Tatlow-Lord
Couch Surfing: a philosophy perhaps; a way of life for some, but essentially a semi-organised global system of crashing at mates’ places. Except that these are mates you’ve never met before; mates who live across the ocean or at least at a different mouth of the Murray; mates with delightful accents and fascinating cultures, more generous and welcoming even than that guy you thought was Pete from primary school, who listened to your drunken breakup stories and shouted you a yiros and cab fare even though he wasn’t Pete at all, just a patient stranger being a total champion.
Couch surfers are any backpackers and travellers who forsake the predictable, homogenised accommodation experience offered by hotels and hostels, and instead choose to seek out contacts in the places they wish to visit and stay with locals in their homes - on the couch or wherever, for next-to-nothing.
Adelaide student Tim explains that the major benefits are friendship, local insight and a feeling of community and connectedness rather than a free roof. “Whenever I’ve been to other people’s places, you do something special … personally, I really like good food and wine, so I’ll share my world with them by going out and getting these things. So realistically I’m still spending a certain amount of money… but I’m having a lot more fun with my money.”
As well as couch surfing through Canada and the US, Tim has hosted global visitors back home; making some great friends, learning heaps about different cultures and doing his bit for Adelaide’s rep in the process. “Adelaide’s got a shitty tourism industry, no-one comes here because the other states are like ‘nah, there’s nothing there.’ But EVERYONE that I’ve hosted, every single person that I’ve shown around Adelaide has been like ‘yeah these people said this, but I don’t know what they’re talking about, this place is amazing!”

The host/couchsurfer relationship can be uniquely intimate, almost like adopting a temporary best friend. In this context, says Tim, “You can spend a day with a good friend you’ve known for years and not really learn anything new …you’ve got pre-assumptions and don’t really ask so much. But when you spend time with someone you don’t know, it’s awesome! Intense times with people. It makes people look at their own philosophies and compare them with others and see where they can add to their own.” Hosts get to see their own lives through a fresh pair of eyes, even if their visitor isn’t from anywhere particularly exotic.
My friend Elise took her first couchsurfer, a chatty and perceptive American named Kyle, to a weekend away with her uni crowd, and found that he noticed conflicts and power dynamics within the group that she had been oblivious to. Enthusiastic about the experience and the prospect of hosting again, Elise mentions that “he also left a bottle of gin at my house! What a bonus!” So hosts get a lot out of couch surfing too – and of course, by sharing their homes, they are helping to create a global network of welcoming couches which they themselves can one day snuggle into during future adventures anywhere around the world.
D.I.Y is perhaps misinterpreted as a culture of fierce independence – more often, “D.I.Y” activities show what
people can achieve together; and that pretty much all of us like to help, and feel needed by, and connected to, others. By encouraging us to stay with locals while travelling, and to open up our own homes to visitors from afar, couch surfing takes a ‘service’ that is usually commodified and homogenised (i.e. tourism and accommodation), and encourages us to instead provide it to each other freely, to trust and to share … to just do it ourselves!
