Our loud and jolly group returned to the hostel, and settled in for the night. But when Kim changed her clothes for bed, I could not believe what I saw: She was wearing a banana slug t-shirt.

Here I should explain that the banana slug, a 4-6 inch long bright yellow mollusk, is the offbeat but utterly revered mascot of my own dear college days at the University of California, Santa Cruz. It was practically the last thing I expected to encounter here, in any form.

This was a grand opening for conversation, and I soon learned that Kim had friends in Santa Cruz, and had visited there often. Her home base was a little town in Oklahoma, where she worked as a librarian. Age 32 and single, she had recently taken on the full responsibility of caring for an eight year old relative, and this trip might be the last bit of footloose freedom she would enjoy for some time.

Beginning to feel our exhaustion, we promised to continue getting to know each other on tomorrow's hike. We settled into our respective bunks, and soon we were out like the proverbial light.

We discovered there was no need for alarm clocks the next morning, as the picturesque little church adjacent to the hostel rang its bells promptly at seven, jarring us all awake in an instant.

Then came the careful negotiations as we figured out in what order we would share the two showers. Being spoiled Americans all, the idea of limiting our hot water with a token seemed brutal, and we spent much time strategizing how we could make the best use of it.

The truth was that five minutes turned out to be plenty of time to soap up and shower off, unless you had a lot of hair and used a great deal of shampoo. But long, steamy sessions of singing Gilbert and Sullivan operettas as the warm water streamed down our backs were definitely out.

Next: A New Definition for "Beach"