After a ten hour bus trip to Lisbon from Salamanca, my brain wasn't capable of navigating the metro so I took the lazy way out and opted for a cab, which turned out to be a good opportunity to practise my Spanish! On arrival at the hostel the common area was bustling with people and despite being tired, I decided to suck it up and go down and socialise, it was a Saturday night after all. I sat on a spare bean bag in a group of Italians and we chatted for a little while before I hit a huge wall, they were going to the Hard Rock Cafe just the 4 of them for a quiet night so considering it wasn't a monumental evening I'd be missing out on, I snuck up to bed for what turned out to be a great nights sleep. I woke up feeling so recharged and fresh I gave myself a pat on the back for the wise decision to forgo partying the night before. I went downstairs for breakfast and was taken aback at what was on offer. Yes Hostel had been voted number 1 hostel in the world this year and I am sure the breakfast spread would have played a part in that. Scrambled eggs, little sausage pieces, toast, 4 types of cereal, spreads, ham, cheese and about 5 types of juice plus tea and coffee. While I sat down to my eggs and cereal, three boys approached me and asked to share a table. It was about time I made some friends here so I put on my best smile and ushered them to sit down. Leon, Tim and Constantine were from Germany and were on a two week trip to Portugal. They were lovely and friendly and Tim looked unbelievably like Harry Styles so I decided to hang out with them more and try and subtly get a good photo so I could send it back to karantz and Georgia! I went off on the walking tour and they decided to come along too which was nice. We walked all over Lisbon and saw the castle, which gave an incredible view of Lisbon from the top of the hill, the bridge which is identical to the Golden Gate in San Fran, the Jesus statue, a smaller replica of the one in Rio de Janeiro, alfombra which is a section with a strong moorish influence before finishing up in the main square next to the river. We decided to go and get a bite to eat, but the restaurant we wanted to eat at was full and all the other options started to look a little too expensive so we reached a consensus, drink now and then back to the hostel to cook up some lunch. The boys all got on the beer even though it was 2pm (they really were Germans) but I was thinking of my poor liver and steered clear of alcohol. It worked out nicely that we had both decided on pasta for lunch especially as they had ingredients to whip up an arrabiatta style sauce and I only had plain pasta. They generously shared and after an enormous bowl I was so so full. After our food had digested a bit we set off for another walk around the streets without any real plan or destination in mind so of course we ended up at a bottle shop and then drinking ciders on the riverbank. It was actually lovely basking in the sun, taking in the beautiful river and boats sailing past with a deliciously frosty and crisp Somersby in my hand. Soon the very prevalent drug dealing population of Lisbon thought our idea was a nice one as they gradually began to surround us and feeling very uncomfortable I decided to leave and the boys joined me. I was tired after all my walking especially in such strong sun so I showered and napped and signed up for dinner at the hostel, if breakfast was any indication I'm sure my ten euros would be a worthwhile investment. It turned out to be a great one. I told them I was gluten free so instead of bread with the hummus, I got carrot sticks, which was followed by vegetable soup, then shepherds pie, finished off with rice pudding and as part of the deal you got three free drinks from the bar. Definitely a good decision!! I was full again but managed to squeeze in 3 sangrias to get ready for the night of partying which was inevitably ahead of me. By 11.30 a group of 11 Australian boys had joined the fray and were the most typical Aussie larrikin boys as you could possibly imagine. Understandably, when they joined in the level of rowdiness was amped up ten fold and we were out to a bar within an hour dancing like crazy, singing and chanting and then stumbling into taxis home at around 4am.
The next morning we were all feeling worse for wear and I didn't emerge out of bed until 11.30. Everyone seemed to be in a similar condition for they all slowly filtered downstairs from 12 onwards all looking tired and not the best, except for the Germans who as always looked immaculate (how do they do it?) They were hungry and so was I so we wandered down to the shops and decided on the fine cuisine offered at the kebab shop, it looked so dodgy but I was too hungry to care at that point. When the food came out though, I was pleasantly surprised and it was without a doubt the best kebab/gyros plate I had seen my whole trip and it looked 1000x more appetising than the boys little kebabs. For once, gluten free life wins!! After conquering 3/4 of the plate I admitted defeat and let the ravenous boys wreak havoc on my leftovers. I said my goodbyes to them as they were leaving and it was time for my day trip to Sintra! The 8 of us piled into the minibus and no one seemed too friendly or keen for conversation so in my hungover state I just sat in silence and continued to drink bottles of water to attempt to recover. Our first stop was a wine and port tasting which I struggled my way through before we headed up to a castle at the very top of the town. The building itself wasn't anything too special but its extensive grounds were incredible and we spent two hours exploring the gardens, caves, hidden waterfalls, and stone buildings and lookouts which looked hundreds of years old. From here our tour guide took us to one of his favourite coastline spots, which was a cool surfy town with an amazing view from the cliff top where we sat and chatted and soaked up the sun for a while. After this we reached the most western point of mainland Europe and despite the freezing cold wind stood and posed for the typical tourist shots. We commenced our homeward journey but this time drove all along the coast line taking pictures and absorbing the beautiful views and the sky turning from blue to pink to black as the sun sunk below the cliff line. Our final stop was Belen to visit a world famous cake shop where the traditional Portuguese custard tarts are made. Only 4 people in the world know the official recipe and although these tarts can be found all across the country, this is where they were invented and apparently none would ever taste as good. Ill have to take their word for it because obviously I couldn't try them, which was torture as it was 8.30pm and I felt sick from hunger. We arrived back at the hostel and I rushed into the kitchen cooked up some pasta and snuck some stroganoff sauce from the giant pot of hostel dinner to accompany it. I wasn't planning on going out but the good looking rep from the pub crawl company came around and suddenly we were all signed up and going out. It was my last night so I went and got changed and came back ready to party. The first two stops were average but the third club was exactly my cup of tea, all old r n b and pop classics I could sing every word to and booty shake as if I was beyonce! For hours and hours I danced until for some reason, all of the boys were kicked out and I was dragged out with them. It was probably for the best but I was very angry my dancing had to come to an end.
My time in Lisbon had already come to an end and next stop was Porto! For once the bus actually came through with the goods and the promised wifi worked so I spent the journey on Facebook and napping. As soon as I arrived in Porto I realised it probably would have been wise to use the wifi to look up directions to the hostel. I was now without Internet and had no clue of where to go. Nearly an hour went by but my aimless wandering somehow led me to the nearest main road and I had directions from there! The sun was warming my back so as soon as I checked in I was determined to get to a beach. The receptionist told me how to catch the metro there but I decided it was time to try and regain some level of fitness so I set off walking. 8 kilometres turned out to be a lot longer and more tiring than expected especially in the heat so when I deliriously saw the water and questioned if it was a mirage I decided I would be tramming back. The sand felt amazing under my feet after such a long walk and I continued to massage my feet with it after plonking down on my towel. I didn't even swim after all that as the waves were very intense so I sat and watched the surfers and added 100 more pictures of another magical sunset to my 'Sunsets around the world' album, which now probably has close to 400 photos, of pretty much the exact same thing. It took a while to find the tram and in the end I was very glad I decided to pick the lazy option as it was pitch black. I arrived back to the hostel just in time for dinner which was a duck risotto. There were only two groups of three people who didn't look friendly or even willing to let anyone else in on their fun so I decided to be anti social and spent some time with my dear friend Harry Potter instead.
I had a 5am flight to Morocco so planned to sleep at the airport to save money (desperate times, desparate measures) but i had to check out of my hostel at 11am. I planned a busy day to keep myself occcupied until i headed to the airport at midnight and somehow managed to stay entertained! My first stop was a free walking tour with a lovely guide who sympathised enormously with my 'horrendous luck' at being coeliac and offered gluten free alternatives to every traditional Portuguese dish he mentioned which was sweet. We explored all of the east side of town and I was taken aback at how beautiful Porto was. Nearly all of my friends had given this town a miss, and although I was only there for a short time, I think they missed somewhere quite special. There was another walking tour of the western half of town which begun later in the afternoon so in between I set off to find a lunch spot that had been recommended to me, as well as the bookshop that inspired Harry Potter's 'Flourish and Blotts'. The bookshop was amazing and although photos were banned, I managed to sneak one without being noticed. I found the lunch spot and was so happy to see a buffet offering healthy food and VEGETABLES which seem to be impossible to find unless you are at a supermarket. I got chicken, baby garlic and rosemary potatoes, lentils, chickpeas and a green salad as well as an iced tea for 5 euro. I was very happy and I couldn't even finish it which shows how generous the portions were, it was an absolute bargain! By the time I had finished my feast I headed to the meeting spot for tour number 2. To my surprise this tour was quite Harry potter based as JK Rowling had lived in Porto for a few years and actually started writing there. Some of the featured Harry potter stops were the train station, the bookshop (twice in a day woops!), and two churches with a hidden house between them which inspired 12 grimmauld place's hiding spot. I got chatting with a few people from the tour so when it finished we decided to climb up to the bridge together, walk across it and watch the sunset from the other side of Porto. The climb was more difficult than we first thought but the view was well worth it, you could see the entire city and the river. We sat riverside post sunset and enjoyed a jug of sangria before the others were hungry and wanted dinner. Strangely I wasn't hungry in the slightest but went along with them anyway to kill some more time. After dinner it was 10.30 so I walked back to the hostel and mooched off their wifi for an hour before it was airport time, and also time to start the most horrible 22 hours of transit imaginable. I arrived at the station and just missed the train, 20 minute wait. Got to the airport at 12.30 and found my self the most comfortable looking bench and lay down hugging my bags. Paranoia set in after approximately 3 minutes of lying there so I designed an intricate and robber-proof mess of straps and locks twisted and locked to my body so then I set my alarm, and now I could relax surely I'd go to sleep.. Not exactly. I think I dozed off for about 10mins before waking in a panic fearing I'd been robbed or missed my flight, so for the next three hours I just lay awake staring at the departures board. I managed 1 hour of sleep on my 1.5 hour flight to Barcelona then had a 6 hour stopover to deal with. I splurged and went shopping with money I didn't have and then sat there doing nothing for hours before giving in and paying 5 euro for 40 minutes of wifi so I had something to do. I slept the whole 3 hour flight to Morocco but was still extremely exhausted. I got to Fez and realised because of daylight savings I had 4 hours to wait for the girls not 3 and I was close to melting point. I took refuge in the ONLY shop in fez airport, a cafe where every single man was smoking despite numerous signs stating smoking was banned indoors. This was my first insight into Moroccos number one social rule- Men are the bosses. The girls finally arrived and I was so happy to see familiar faces, we walked over to the taxi driver and 45 minutes later at 9pm, I had made it.
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