Lagos, Portugal

I already mentioned that I forgot my passport and had to take a different bus than Amber and Molly. However, some good did come of my absentmindedness; I ran into the registrar of our school CIEE, Carmen, AND I made two friends. First of all, Carmen and I chatted in Spanish for a long time about classes, the difficulties of learning a language, and why she thinks I should stay the whole year in Spain (I wish). Also, we talked about the two English speaking two boys on the left of us- “I think they are from the U.S., but you would know better than I would”... No Carmen, they’re def from Britain. But I had to make sure, so I asked them. Looking surprised, they replied that Luke was from Bristol, England and Mat had been living and working in England, but was from Australia. [They told me later they were surprised when I first spoke in perfect English because they thought I was a Spaniard. I love that. Me: “So you don’t speak Spanish...” The boys, with a smile: “What more do you need know besides how to ask for water, bread, and beer...”]


They were free floating, backpacking in Spain and Portugal with no real plan while in Lagos and with no hostel lined up for that night. I told them that Molly and Amber had already checked in to one and that the two could take a look if they liked. Getting off the bus, we met up with Molly and Amber. In Spanish, we decided together if the boys were sketch or not. Gosh, I love secrets. How great is it that they walked along side of us without understand a word we said. In this manner, we decided their fate for the night: they were acceptable companions.


More than acceptable, they were in the top 10 for good-boys-that-your-mother-would-approve-of and we ended up spending the entire weekend with them. Us girls really appreciated having them with us because one, they were fun, nice, laid back, and willing to do anything and everything. Two, they scared off all the creepers at the bars. Hip, hip, hurray for the male friend component. Three, we shared cultural differences from our three different English speaking countries:

• What does "pants" mean to you? Are they what you wear OVER underwear or AS underwear? In England, pants= boxers. Hey, Luke, your pants are showing...
• Care for a cup of tea anyone? was a frequent question the boys asked us. You know, I could do quite well in England. They drink 3-4 cups a day and I drink 5-6 during the winter. Excessive? Yeah, thanks. I’ve heard that one a few times.
• Mat learned how to fist pump.
• I also taught him about the cultural of northern Minnesota. Blaze orange girls with a gun are culturally acceptable.
• I learned that the equivalent of “it was fantastic” in Australia is “it was a ripper” or pearler/belter.
• I also learned about Australian football. Wikipedia that—it’s crazy business! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australian_rules_football

The weekend was fantabulous. We lied on the beach and stared at the bluest, most delicious water. At the last minute, the two boys and I joined on Molly and Amber’s kayaking adventure. It was unbelievable, absolutely fantastic. I couldn’t stop taking pictures, yet feared dropping the camera in the water. So I zipped, unzipped, rezipped, reunzipped the 80% waterproof bag a million times (80%... that’s comforting in itself, no? :S). Obviously, ocean kayaking is kind of unpredictable because of the waves. At one point, the water pulled back and Luke and I were beached precariously and completely out of the water on top of rock. Yeaaaah, man. Also, we scooted underneath bridges of rock and went into caves inaccessible except by water.
It didn’t end there! After 45 ninutes of kayaking, we pulled off at a remote beach surrounded by tall rocks and our guided whipped out snorkels. How can I explain that underwater world in words?? You’ve all seen it on the Discovery Channel (Shark Week, Amber? hahaha). But have you seen it? Have you touched it? The sea anemones are beautiful beyond words. They sway in the water with their fusion colored limbs that seize your hand when you brush them (I hope I’m not dying from thousands of poison injections to my hand). After my fingers turned white from the cold, I swam to shore nearly dying again on the way in. The sharp rocks, the barrier between the land and the earth, proved quite the challenge. Painfully, I stumbled over/was thrown upon them by the waves and eventually reached the shore. Once on shore, our guide, Luke, Mat, and I did a little rockclimbing. Ouch. If only I had had my rockclimbing shoes!!!!!




It was a good weekend. We ate Portuguese food (thumbs up). I met two dudes who spoke 5 languages (I’m so jealous). I jumped on a stranger’s horse who was riding around in the very center of town :). I did a bit of shopping, a little bar hopping, more ice cream eating, and more jamming to We Speak No Americano and Stereo Love. And then, too quickly, our weekend came to end and we had to say goodbye to our boys. I hate goodbyes. I hate goodbyes. Hope to see you again, Mat and Luke.