I still remember the exact moment I fell in love with a school. It was 3 AM in Kyoto, and I was lost—not in the romantic, Eat-Pray-Love kind of way, but the sweaty, “I just walked into a bamboo forest and now a wild boar is staring at me” kind of way. I ducked into what I thought was a convenience store, but it turned out to be the entrance of an abandoned elementary school. The blackboard still had a math problem on it, half-erased. The little wooden chairs were stacked like ghosts. And I just stood there, heart hammering, thinking: Why does this feel more alive than any five-star hotel I’ve ever stayed in?
That night changed how I travel. I stopped chasing sunsets and started chasing schools. Yes, schools. Not the ones you’re thinking of—not the sterile, fluorescent-lit buildings where you learn algebra. I’m talking about the weird, wonderful, often-abandoned, sometimes-repurposed, always-story-filled schools of the world. And trust me, they’re one of the most underrated travel experiences out there.
Let’s be honest: travel burnout is real. You’ve seen the Eiffel Tower. You’ve done the beach. You’ve eaten street food till your stomach filed a complaint. But have you ever walked into a converted schoolhouse in rural Iceland? Have you ever slept in a dormitory that used to house orphans in 1920s Japan? No? Then buckle up—because I’m about to show you the hidden side of travel that most influencers are too busy posing on a rock to notice.
Why “School Travel” Hits Different (And Why You’ve Been Missing Out)
Here’s the thing about schools: they’re universal. Every human on this planet has some relationship with a school. Fear, nostalgia, joy, trauma—it’s all there. When you walk into an old school, you’re not just seeing a building. You’re stepping into a thousand untold stories. The kid who drew a dinosaur on the chalkboard. The teacher who cried in the supply closet. The lunch that was traded, the test that was cheated on, the first crush that was written in pencil on a desk.
I’ve found that traveling through schools gives you a kind of emotional shortcut to a place. You don’t need to read a history book. You just need to look at the cracks in the floor and the faded posters on the wall. A school tells you what a society valued—discipline? Creativity? Conformity? Rebellion? It’s all there, preserved in peeling paint.
And here’s what most people miss: schools aren’t just for nostalgia trips. They’re being repurposed into some of the most creative accommodations, cafes, and museums on the planet. You can sleep in a classroom in Taiwan. You can drink a latte in a former school principal’s office in London. You can eat pasta in a converted school gym in Italy. The trend is real, and it’s glorious.
But let me warn you: not all school-travel experiences are created equal. Some are magical. Some are creepy. Some are just... weird. And that’s exactly why you need to go.
The 3 Types of School Travel (And Which One Is Right For You)
I’ve categorized my school travels into three distinct flavors. Pick your poison:
1. The Abandoned & Creepy These are the schools that time forgot. Windows boarded up, pianos moldy, a single doll sitting in a corner. I stayed in one in rural Taiwan, and I swear I heard chalk scratching at 2 AM. (It was a rat. Probably.) These are for the brave, the photographers, and the people who watch too many horror movies. Pro tip: Bring a good flashlight and a sense of humor. You’ll need both.
2. The Repurposed & Hipster These are the schools that have been lovingly converted into hostels, cafés, and co-working spaces. The School Hotel in Kyoto? A dream. The classroom bunks are still there, but now you get free Wi-Fi and a pour-over coffee station. These are for the social traveler who wants a story to tell at dinner. My favorite: The backpacker hostel in Prague that used to be a Soviet-era school. The bunk beds are literally old student desks stacked on top of each other. Genius.
3. The Active & Traditional These are schools that are still schools but welcome visitors. Think: a one-room schoolhouse in the Scottish Highlands where the teacher still uses a cane (not for hitting, for pointing). Or a Buddhist monastic school in Bhutan where you can sit in on a morning chanting session. These require more planning, but they offer raw, unfiltered cultural immersion. Just be respectful. No one wants a tourist interrupting calculus.
The Hidden Goldmine: “School Stays” That Will Blow Your Mind
I’ve stayed in more schools than I have in hotels over the past five years. Here are the ones that genuinely changed how I see travel:
- The School Hotel (Kyoto, Japan) – This is the one I mentioned earlier. It’s not abandoned—it’s a boutique hotel where you sleep in actual classrooms. The blackboards still have lessons written on them. The lockers are still there. It’s nostalgic, clean, and surprisingly romantic. I took a date there once. She said it was “the most interesting room she’d ever slept in.” We didn’t work out, but the school memory stuck.
- Casa de la Escuela (Barcelona, Spain) – A former primary school turned into a creative space with dorm beds. The hallways are painted with murals by local artists. You can eat breakfast in the old gymnasium. The vibe is chaotic, colorful, and absolutely alive.
- The Old School House (Cornwall, UK) – Not a hostel, but an Airbnb. A Victorian schoolhouse converted into a cozy cottage. You can sleep in the headmaster’s office. The fireplace still works. I wrote half of a novel there. (The novel was terrible. The experience was not.)
- School of Life (Various locations) – Okay, this one’s a bit meta. It’s not a school you sleep in, but a series of “school-themed” workshops and talks held in repurposed schools. I attended one in Amsterdam, and we learned how to bake bread in the old home economics room. Best afternoon of my trip.
How to Find “School Travel” Opportunities (Without Getting Lost in a Bamboo Forest)
I’m not saying you should wander into abandoned schools at 3 AM like I did. That was a happy accident. But you can find these places intentionally. Here’s how:
- Use unconventional search terms. Don’t just search “hotels near me.” Search “converted school hostel,” “abandoned school Airbnb,” “schoolhouse hotel,” “former school accommodation.” You’d be shocked how many results pop up.
- Look for “school” in the name. Many hostels and hotels wear their school past on their sleeve. “The School House,” “The Academy,” “The Dormitory.” If the name sounds like a boarding school from a 90s movie, book it.
- Check Atlas Obscura. This is my secret weapon. They have a whole category for abandoned schools and repurposed institutions. Every time I’m planning a trip, I search “school” on their site and find gold.
- Ask locals. I can’t stress this enough. When you’re in a small town, ask the oldest person you see if there’s an old school nearby. They’ll often know the stories. One time, a grandmother in rural France walked me to a school that had been closed since 1944. The desks still had initials carved into them. She cried. I cried. It was a moment.
- Be flexible. Not every school experience will be Instagram-worthy. Some are dusty, dark, and a little sad. But those are often the best ones. The sad schools tell the truest stories.
Why You Should Add “School” to Your Travel Bucket List Right Now
I’m going to be real with you: travel is getting boring. We’ve optimized the hell out of it. We book the same Airbnbs, eat the same avocado toast, take the same photos in front of the same landmarks. But schools? Schools are the antidote to sameness.
Every school is a fingerprint. No two are alike. The architecture, the smell, the graffiti, the way the light hits the floor—it’s all unique. And because schools are so tied to childhood and memory, they tap into something primal. You don’t just visit a school. You feel it.
I’ve sat in a classroom in rural Vietnam where the walls were covered in drawings of dragons. I’ve stood in a bombed-out school in Bosnia where the clock on the wall still shows the exact time of the explosion. I’ve laughed in a school-turned-bar in Berlin where the chalkboard menu still has “detention” written on it. Each one taught me something about the place, the people, and myself.
So here’s my challenge to you: next time you travel, skip the museum. Skip the beach. Find an old school. Walk through the hallways. Touch the desks. Imagine the lives that were lived there. And then, if you’re lucky, sleep in a classroom and dream of a world where every trip feels like the first day of something new.
Because the best travel isn’t about seeing the world—it’s about relearning it. One school at a time.