For someone who recently decided she could make herself useful by being a “travel blogger” (I use this term loosely), I sure did fail at doing any blogging during my travels. Here’s a little tidbit from a land called Lisbon.
As I ride the bus to Barcelona, with the distinct smell of someone who has shit their pants flooding my olfactory senses, I can’t help but reminisce on my trip to Lisbon.
But first, I think of the pants shitter. No matter how much misery we fellow bus patrons are in during this unfortunate situation, it can’t compare to that of the pants shitter. He or she probably didn’t wake up today with the goal of shitting his or her pants on the bus. So here’s to you, pants shitter unless you are a baby, in which case your parents need to clean that shit up.
Now, back to Portugal. It was an icy dream. What do you get when you put two Americans, a South African, a Romanian, a Norwegian couple and a dash of German, Swedish and Danish in a house with no central heating? Friendship people. You get pure, uninhibited friendship.
From freezing our asses off in the surf to freezing our asses off in the house, we bonded over a common thread—that we all most certainly needed to get our heads checked upon our return home. But seriously, who goes surfing in Europe in the winter? Probably professionals and serious surfers. Probably not Team Foam Board and Team Two Wetsuits.
Nothing bonds a group of people quite like urinating in wetsuits, suffering from consistent mild hypothermia, accidentally spending your evening at a gay bar and listening to the musical styling of a woman named Marta Suarez.
My absolute favorite part about travel is the people you meet. You’re basically throwing yourself in a foreign country with a bunch of strangers you would otherwise never encounter and it’s a recipe for good times and lasting friendships. From the ball busting Romanian lawyer to the easygoing South African cosmetic dentist to the up for anything Norwegian power couple, I wouldn’t have traded that group for anything.
I will forever remember this trip by a series of extremely significant events:
- Eating KFC for Christmas dinner after a trip to the aquarium with a Romanian and a South African
- Seeing my lips turn a shade of blue that should only be seen post-mortem after several hours of surf
- Watching a South African (who doesn’t speak a word of Portuguese) confidently belt out the lyrics to Portuguese pop music at a gay bar
- Being serenaded by a very masculine woman named Marta Suarez
- Drinking all of the sangria in Lisbon
- All of the ching-chings (or is it chin-chins?) over the many drinks we shared
- Having cozy family dinners in arctic climates each night wearing our winter outfits we left our respective countries in for survival
- Meeting Italian Bradley Cooper and Russian Spencer Pratt
Lisbon, you were an absolutely gem and I can’t wait to be inside of you again. Obrigado for all of the good times you doll.