“He who goes to the hostel of strangers is delusional”: this is what the big trip looks like today

Anyone who traveled in South America or the Far East a decade or two ago probably remembers the ritual: arriving in a new town, looking for the hostel with the international aroma, the well-designed bar and the meeting with Australians, Germans and Brits (over a beer, of course) – just to feel a little more “on the big trip” and a little less in Dizengoff Square on Friday at noon.

But in 2026, the choice of where to put the backpack at the end of the day is no longer just a question of “Do I want to speak English or Hebrew?”, the complex global reality, the rise of anti-Semitism alongside the communities of digital nomads, and the social networks that make everything accessible in advance, have completely changed the rules of the game for backpackers in general, and Israelis in particular.

“Today it is much easier to find the Israeli community,” explains Noam Amira, a trip planner and guide to travelers in building customized itineraries abroad, who is currently on an extended trip herself. “There are WhatsApp and Facebook groups for almost every destination, recommendations by Israelis and hostels that are completely identified with travelers from the country. Whoever wants, can really spend an entire trip inside this community.”

These hostels often offer an Israeli home experience for everything, and today it is sought after more than ever, precisely because they are far from home. “The atmosphere is very Israeli: familiar music, shared activities, and sometimes even a menu that includes hummus, falafel, bureks or jachanon on Shabbat,” says Noam with a smile. “But what really attracts people is not the food, but the feeling. It’s very easy to fit in, meet partners for the rest of the way, and within a day or two feel part of a cohesive group.”

Alongside the familiar hostels, one old institution continues to maintain its position as the strongest community anchor: Chabad houses. At almost every strategic point on the map they are a meeting place for Israeli and Jewish travelers from all over the world. It’s not just a religious matter, Friday meals there are the lifeline for those looking for a sense of family, community and human connection after months of wandering.

The common assumption is that Israelis travel in impenetrable “bands”, but the reality is more complex. “In the end, most Israeli travelers do find themselves traveling mainly with Israelis,” admits Noam. “There is something very natural about speaking your language, laughing at the same jokes, sharing similar experiences from the army and life in Israel and connecting quickly. On the other hand, this really does not mean that connections are not made with travelers from all over the world.”

According to her, the biggest change from before is the accessibility of information. Once the trip was based on complete uncertainty, you arrive in a town and find out on the spot from whom to take recommendations and where to sleep. Today, when everything is pre-ordered in apps, everyone has the freedom to choose their dose of “Israeliness” at any given moment. There are those who start the trip inside the familiar bubble, and as time passes and their self-confidence increases, they split up, mix with Europeans or Australians, and return to the Israeli community only when they feel a little like home.

And what about the “separation”? It is far from being hermetic. “Even at the Israeli hotel in Panama where I have been volunteering for two months, there are many travelers from Europe and other countries,” says Noam. “In my eyes, this combination is the most beautiful. A place that feels like a warm home to Israelis, and still remains open, inviting and intriguing to every traveler from the world.”

It is impossible to talk about a trip abroad in recent years without talking about personal security. The presence of Palestinian flags, political graffiti and demonstrations in the big cities make many travelers ask themselves: is sleeping in an international hostel a danger?

“Today all Israelis go to Israeli hostels,” says Ron Artzi, who recently returned from a long post-military trip to South America. “Very few people go to local hostels (perhaps only if they’re really trying to save money and that’s the end of the trip), I think that since October 7 they mostly prefer the safer place and not brag too much,” she says honestly, describing that there were places where she felt more and less relaxed. “In Colombia, for example, we were very antipathetic to us. I remember that the one who went to foreign hostels was only when there was no other choice, or he was probably delusional.”

“It really depends on the country and the period,” explains Noam. “For example, in Chile I felt the anti-Semitism much more than in Peru or Argentina, and there were also moments when we felt we had to be more careful. In places where the tension is felt, there are quite a few Israelis who will choose an Israeli-owned hostel simply for peace of mind. The staff at these places are very security conscious, respond immediately to any incident and accompany the travelers personally.” It is important to note that the owners of these hostels are also usually Israelis, which creates a small Israel surrounded by a stone wall and an iron door, right in the middle of a remote tropical village.

This concern is not the exclusive property of travelers in South America. Karen Or, a traveler and creator of restaurant and travel content, who recently arrived at a hostel in Barcelona tells of a shocking experience: “I entered the common room and felt as if I had entered a tent in Gaza. Eight Muslim men in grandfather shirts were lying on the beds, and the looks I received from them were enough to make me scared to death that they would find out where I was from. Later on in the trip, in the club, guys started with us and they were all Muslims. We tried really hard To say that we are from other places, until two guys from a hostile village in Israel recognized us, and half-smilingly hinted to us that ‘it’s lucky that we’re girls’, a guy who danced with me asked where I was from. When I said ‘Israel’, he stopped, said ‘I’m against your country that murders children’ and left.”

Marinuchka, a travel blogger who traveled for six months in the USA, Mexico and Brazil, tells of a hotel owner in Mexico City who refused to accommodate her and her friends simply because they were Israelis. “The whole area there was full of graffiti and Palestinian flags, and we even went out at night to tear the posters off the walls,” she recalls. And the stories also reach the other end of the world, when in Shirgao in the Philippines there was a pub that refused to admit Israelis and treated them with hostility.

Alongside the stories of extremism, many travelers report a completely opposite picture: a reality where the world remains beautiful, open and welcoming, as long as the news is kept out of bounds. In the community of nomads in Bansko in Bulgaria, for example, they talk about a particularly warm and welcoming atmosphere. “Everyone here knows that we are Israelis and they welcome us with open arms,” says an Israeli digital nomad. “The formula is simple: one must respect the other, and not enter into political discussions in any way.”

Even in destinations that are considered politically “hot” on social media, the reality on the ground may be a pleasant surprise. A backpacker who visited Paris this year says: “Contrary to everything you hear online, we did not encounter any hostility. Even Muslims who were with us in the metro and heard us speaking Hebrew simply exchanged words between them in French about the fact that we are from Israel, in a kind of mild surprise, without any bad word or hostile look.”

In the end, if you choose to sleep in an Israeli hostel with the smell of falafel in the air, and if you decide to hide your passport in an international hostel in Barcelona, the big trip remains a school of life. The complex encounter with the world, with its beauty and ugliness, is what produces the inner change in travelers.

“I came to the trip from a small town in the south,” concludes Noam Amira. “Suddenly I met people from all over the country and from all over the world, and I realized how different we are, but also how similar we are. Precisely through the encounter with the local culture and the simple joy of the people in South America, I got new proportions about my life in Israel. And that, in my eyes, is still the heart of the great trip. Not only to see beautiful landscapes, but to get to know people, to get to know cultures, and in the end – to get to know yourself anew.”