A smiling crowd of strangers greeted me as I pushed open the heavy wooden door to Amsterdam's Flying Pig Downtown hostel. The large room was pleasantly painted in deep mahogany and bright colors. The group, speaking in accented English, called me over. We ended up having one of the most profound conversations of my life.

Although not a night at the Ritz, hosteling can be glorious in other ways. Often, I've found, it's all about the people you'll meet. Hostels have a friendly backpacking subculture that can help guide you through Europe.

At the Flying Pig, the staff tends to be young and multilingual, and more than willing to help you get into the groove. At 30 euros (about $36) for a bed, it's on the high end of the hostel price range. But as at other "upscale" hostels (identifiable by flashy pamphlets at local train or bus stations), you get breakfast, a lock box for personal items, sheets and towels, Internet access and maps if you ask.

In smaller cities, the hostel bar may serve as the town's hottest night spot for young locals. That's what I found at Balmer's Herberge in Interlaken, Switzerland. A traveler-turned-friend and I were wandering around the city when we met a group of local kids in a video gaming bar. They'd already been planning to hit Balmer's Metro Bar. Surprised, Kat and I felt like cultural connoisseurs.

Later that evening we found ourselves dancing with partners from all over the world. We picked up a few phrases in difficult Swiss German. This turned out to be crucial the next day when I took advantage of Balmer's discounted scooter rentals, planning to ride through the mountains. I collided with a parked BMW and managed to impress the police with my efforts to speak their language.

The Snuffel Backpacker Hostel in Bruges, Belgium, is another friendly stop. The walls are brightly painted, and the tables are decked out in chess patterns, conducive for playing with the house pieces. It's staffed by about 10 kids who are best friends, co-workers, and great tour guides.

After a long day of exploring the old stone city (like a fairy tale that never grew up), we returned to the Snuffel bar and ordered the raspberry house beer. I played chess with Jan; my friends chatted with Matthias, who was working the bar. The staff taught us a few Flemish words and took us to a concert by train. When it was time for us to leave, we hugged and cried as if we'd known each other for 10 years.

Even hostels without bars can be social. They tend to be smaller, and might not have pamphlets in the local stations. Funky Backpackers in Granada, Spain, is more like a quaint hotel, with Moorish tile decoration and a narrow staircase that leads to the five or so rooms.

Except on the rooftop terrace boasting breathtaking views both of the city and the Alhambra, Funky isn't really a place to hang out. But the hostel offers organized excursions, and I signed up for an outing to a hot spring outside the city. Most of the people at the spring were Spanish, which made the experience feel more authentic. Later that night, a Funky staffer took some of us on a pub crawl around some very local night spots.

Hosteling doesn't just enhance the experience, I found — often it is the experience.

Lisette Johnson, a New York University journalism student, wrote this article for NYU Livewire, a college news service.