September 8, 2012

Confessions of the Euro-fluenced: Days 61-63

For the next few days of our three month European journey, we reserved a room in JJ's Guesthouse in Lagos. Lagos is a tiny beach town in the Algarve, a popular vacation region on the southern coast of Portugal. Had we known guesthouse was really another name for party hostel, our time there may have turned out differently. 

Our days included eating a grand total of one decent meal at a touristy restaurant, hiking along some cliffs by the ocean, spending as much time on the beach as we could without looking like we were part of the homeless crowd that lived on the beach, finding a perfect cave on the beach to sun ourselves in, taking a measly 35 photos (mostly of the BEAUTIFUL cove beaches  because nothing else was worth remembering), and producing and directing a two-minute video of a sand crab nibbling a half-eaten apple (to be uploaded at a later time....)

We had much higher hopes for Lagos. 

Disclaimer: When you see the pictures, you will wonder how I don't have much to say about Lagos. And while I admit that it absolutely was one of the prettiest places I have ever been to, well, the town had no personality. And our days were tainted by what little sleep we squeezed out of the nights.

How bad could our nights have really been?

 Let me give you a taste of what a night in JJ's Guesthouse was like (The following is to be taken literally...NO exaggeration included.)


9:00pm.  Andrew and I brush our teeth, read, and start winding down.
9:00pm.  The other guests eat dinner, have pre-drinks, and talk about drinking.

11:00pm.  Andrew and I consider trying to fall asleep.
11:00pm.  The other guests continue to get their buzz on, shower, get dressed, and loudly anticipate the forthcoming party.

12:01am.  Andrew and I turn off the light, put eye masks on and ear plugs in, close the only window in the room (no A/C), and lastly, place pillows over our heads for extra measure.
12:01am.  The other guests have one more round of shots before they head to the bar... The bar that happens to be directly underneath our room.

2:36am.  Andrew and I sleep lightly for a bit because the party noise maintains a constant decibel, almost like a purr.
2:36am.  The other guests continue to drink and flirt with each other at the bar... The bar that happens to be directly underneath our room.

2:37am.  Andrew and I are both startled awake by some loud, drunk guy shouting in the street outside the bar... The  bar that happens to be directly underneath our room.
2:37am. The other loud, drunk guests yell back at the one loud, drunk guy in the street outside the bar. They keep drinking. This goes on for some time.

3:37am. Andrew and I huff and puff and roll around and mumble and grumble and groan incoherently to each other, knowing that we have a 23 minute window to get into REM sleep before the drunks return.
3:37am. The other guests continue to bump and grind and yell and laugh incoherently to each other, knowing they have a 23 minute window to party hard until the bar closes.

4:05am. Andrew and I open the window to our stuffy room (because the party in the street has now turned to a party in our "guesthouse"). We then are able to get comfortable and cool enough to be able to sleep again, if it weren't for...
4:05am. The other guests decide to cook a dinner (breakfast), knock on doors, ring the doorbell, and stomp on floors in the "guesthouse."

4:35am. Andrew and I are startled awake when...
4:35am. The other guests decide to bang on OUR door, open OUR door, walk inside OUR room, flip on OUR lights, and make sure we're doing OK.

4:35am. Andrew stumbles across the room, grumbles "Get Out.", flips off our light, closes our door, and crawls back to bed.
4:35am. The other guests, undeterred, meander back to wherever they were going before they got sidetracked. 

7:05am. Andrew and I close the window that we once  opened (because the quiet street is now full of trucks making morning deliveries). The room  becomes stuffy one again and we try to fall asleep.
7:05am. The other guests wake from their random locations throughout the house (floor, step, windowsill) and loudly stumble their way to their beds.

9:05am. Andrew and I are both startled awake by the "guesthouse's" cleaning crew.
9:05am. The other guests sleep soundly, not being bothered by the noises of the cleaning crew because their intelligent minds have put them in an induced sleep so that their bodies can focus on whole-body alcohol detox.

10:05am. Andrew and I finally get out of bed. I shower while he makes us fried-egg sandwiches to help us recover from the fitful night of partying. 
10:05am. The other guests wake up to use the toilet in all it's forms.

11:05am. Andrew and I groggily head to the beach, lay the blanket down, and try to get some sleep.
11:05am. The other guests wake up, eat a Cup-O-Noodle, and talk about how they can't remember anything that happened last night***, but how it was totally awesome and how they can't wait to do it again tonight.

***That's funny, cuz I can tell you everything you did and said and how stupid you were.


>Food 0

>Location .5
>Activites .5
>Comfort 0
>Hostel 0

The Turner FLACH Rating? 1 lonesome, sandy, sleepy star.

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