Online communities trading kindness among strangers

June 12, 2005|Ethan Gilsdorf, Globe Correspondent

REYKJAVIK, Iceland -- I am sitting in a century-old, rock-lined pool dug directly into the tufted hillside behind me. Actually, behind us. I am not alone. I'm with Eeva Sutinen. We hardly know each other, but she was kind enough to bring me to this closely guarded secret, her bathing spot, hot springs deep in the rural southwestern corner of Iceland.

Neither of us has a watch and neither cares. Soaking under the cosmos, we talk for hours, up to our chests in bath-warm water, a C-shaped wedge of moon spilling like a teacup above us. We are completely, and platonically, naked, though we met only the day before.

Later, we make our way back to her home, near greenhouses glowing like amber-lighted jewels. By now, it must be midnight. She shows me the living room couch and says goodnight. When I awaken, I find a note saying to help myself to what's in the fridge. Eeva, originally from Finland, has already left for work in the greenhouses. It's entirely possible I will never see her again.

On my own, never in a hundred years of wandering Iceland would I have found Eeva or her hot springs. Thanks to online travelers' communities like the Couch Surfing Project, however, strangers meet, put each other up for the night, and possibly enjoy extraordinary if ephemeral encounters.

My ''couch surfing" began for practical reasons. In April, I was planning a six-day stopover in Iceland on a budget so tight I could have lost my money belt between the pages of my Rough Guide. The youth hostel in Reykjavik was booked solid. To avoid a pricey hotel room, I decided to try free accommodation through a hospitality exchange club like Couchsurfing.com.

Here's how it works: Anyone can create a free online profile that describes themselves, where they live, and whether they have a couch to offer other surfers. Travelers can search for hosts in the places they want to visit. E-mails are exchanged and plans are made, as long as both parties -- host and surfer -- are comfortable with the arrangement.

''Ultimately, couch surfing is becoming a brokerage for adventure," says Couchsurfing.com founder Casey Fenton, from Conway, N.H., where Couchsurfing is based. ''We're not just a place to stay for the night. We're here to create memories, have cultural exchanges, perhaps make friends and stories to tell your grandkids."

Fenton, a computer programmer, says the idea for his website began percolating in 1999, when he was traveling to Iceland. Looking for a couch to crash on, he spammed some 1,500 Icelandic students in Reykjavik. Favorable responses led to what he called ''an amazing, crazy weekend." On the plane back to Boston, he said he thought, ''That's how I want to travel . . . every time."

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