I'm in India/I am so miserable.

Hi everyone.  Once you got to my site this week, I’m guessing you were surprised to see 6 new blog posts posted, yes?  Why so many posted in such a short period of time, you ask?  Let me answer with a story:

I can’t use times and specifics like I normally do for this blog post.  I have no idea what time it is anywhere in the world other than here in Mumbai, but I’m fairly sure that I’m 5 hours ahead of London and 10 hours ahead of the East Coast?  So, sorry if some details sound incongruent below...

I anxiously left London early Friday morning.  This was the start of what I’ve consider my third section of my trip. The first was South America, the second were the brief stops in Europe.  Now I was on to Asia where I imagined I’d feel the least comfortable because I know few people there, didn’t speak any of the languages, and would have to tolerate some pretty horrid weather.   

Without a drawn out goodbye, I left London, took the Paddington Express back to Heathrow, and got in line to check into my flight.  An hour later, I finally had gotten through the line, had checked in, and had unloaded my burdensome big backpack.

The nice part of Mumbai's airport.

The flight wasn’t terrible.  I was in a row with extra leg room, had a really cool neighbor who looked shockingly similar to my last boyfriend, and another neighbor with the cutest little girl I’d seen in quite some time (who didn’t cry once!)  The plane took off on time and landed in Mumbai a little later than anticipated due to some airport traffic.  So far so good.

Then it all went to hell.  It was around 12am local time.  Ex-boyfriend lookalike and I both had other flights to connect to which were scheduled to leave sometime around 6am.  I figured a long layover like that would suck, but hoped I could stay busy with my book, a magazine, my laptop, and a nap.

Mumbai’s airport is insane.  We exited and were (kind of) instructed on where to go.  At Immigration, even though I had a visa that had required me to fill out tons of paper to get months earlier, I was drilled about everything.  When I couldn’t produce a phone number for my whereabouts while in India, I got scolded.  Finally I was let through and was off to find my backpack at baggage claim.

The bag came out relatively soon and ex-boy lookalike and I were told to go towards the Domestic Departures sign, then were told to go towards the Exit sign, and finally told to go to the Domestic Departures sign again.  There was a massive line that ex-boy had to wait in, but I was able to skirt it because I was flying on a different airline.  After my big bag was scanned again and I got to the ticket counter, I was informed that my flight time had been changed.  I expected to hear a new time of something like 7am or 8am.  

Me: not impressed.

Wrong.  It was moved to 3:15pm.  It was 1:30am when the Kingfischer Airlines employee told me this.  

Honestly, at this point, the specifics will madden anyone who reads them.  But to name just a few annoyances... I was told I could switch to another airline’s earlier flight, only to be told I couldn’t.  Then I was told I could again.  Then I couldn’t.  I can’t get online because in order to get a login and password to sign in, you need to be able to receive them via SMS message on a cell phone and I am phoneless.  I am not allowed in the VIP area because I am not a Business Class traveler even though I have to wait over 12 hours for my next flight.  I have no rupees and the credit card machine at the only eatery here is broken.  There are no ATMs inside the area I’m in and if I leave to go find one, I will have to check back in all over again, and I don’t know if I can handle that right now.  In short, I’m ready to lose it.  I already cried for about .5 seconds but didn’t want to look like the stupid Westerner who is crying because things aren’t going her way.

And here I am.  Bitching to my laptop before I have even caught up on my blog posts about Lisbon, London again, and Manchester.  But rest assured, by the time you read this, I know I will have written them all and will have them all posted in order.

My view for more than 12 hours.

** Update ** It is now 4:17pm in Mumbai and my flight is again delayed until 5:40pm.  I have been here for 16.25 hours with no internet access and I’ve finished my book and magazines.  I’ve slept a total of 2 hours since I woke up Friday morning in London.  I attempted to get into the VIP lounge area when the flight was moved yet again around 11am, telling the woman at the ticket counter that this was the least I deserved so I could lay down a bit.  When I got to the lounge, I was told I had to pay to be there.  Despite the fact that I was in desperate need of sleep and it wasn’t that expensive, I absolutely refused to pay to be there when they should have given me it for free, so I left.  

And now it is now 4:33pm and I have just unsuccessfully gotten online with the help of two different men here at the airport.  We can’t figure out why I can’t get the stupid log-in shit to work.  They lent me their cell phones so I could get the required log-in info SMS messaged to me.  No dice.

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I am now able to post this, 5 days after I wrote it and I would like you all to know that the flight ended up taking off at 5:30pm.  Either in the airport or on the plane, I lost my beloved little notebook that I’ve been carrying around. It has countless phone numbers I’ve acquired, a running to-do list, a personal email I wrote out before typing it online, and some other stuff I can’t remember but hope is not too embarrassing.  I can only hope the person who found it just threw it away...  

My last few days in the Western world.

After my interesting trip to Manchester and Chorley, I had one and a half days left in London to see people and get things purchased for my future adventures in India and SE Asia.  

I met Charlotte one tube station away from the train station around 5pm on Wednesday and we made our way back to her apartment where we were going to prepare dinner.  Charlotte was having her sister, Anna, and her brother-in-law, Al, over for dinner so they could see her place and so I could see them one last time before I left London.  

Charlotte made a delicious dinner and the four of us sat and chatted about my upcoming travels.  Anna and Al, having done an around the world trip themselves a few years back, had plenty of things to suggest and I wrote everything down because one thing that has not improved on this trip is my memory.  

My new camera!

Around 9pm, Charlotte’s roommate who I’d heard tons about for years and years now came home from work and we all talked a bit more before Anna and Al headed home.  The two roommates and I sat around and I told them about my two days in Manchester.  Charlotte went to university in Manchester and said it was a shame that I hadn’t been able to go out when I was there, so I guess I’ll just have to go back one day!

The next morning, Charlotte woke me up to say goodbye and I got up a few hours later with her roommate for breakfast.  I packed all of my stuff yet again and made my way back to Renate and Chris’ in Notting Hill for my last day in London.

My last day there was similar to my last day in DC before I left on this trip.  I ran around looking for last minute things I decided I needed: another book, some replacement make-up, another t-shirt and a new point-and-shoot camera to replace to the one that had stopped properly focusing in Buenos Aires. The camera ended up being a fiasco because there were no shops in Notting Hill which meant that I had to go to a big shopping area.  I finally got a camera, along with two more shirts I didn’t really need (but they were on sale for 5 pounds each!!)

That night, really anxious about my trip, I didn’t fall asleep until 2am and I woke up at 6am.  No problem, at least I could sleep on the long flight to Bombay...

Day 2 in Chorley.

Hayley striking a pose.

The original plan for my trip to see the ladies was to have a chill night in on Monday and to go out in Manchester to party on Tuesday night.  Obviously Hayley wasn’t going to be able to do anything Tuesday night, but even Nicola and I were beat.  We’d stayed up until 3:30am the night before, had slept in, and were exhausted mentally and physically when we woke up.  We realized that Manchester was a bad idea.

When we woke up around 11am, we went back to Nicola’s house, showered and had some food.  That afternoon, we took it easy before going back to check in on Hayley where we found her in much better shape.  She had changed out of the hospital gown and into a pair of shorts and top, and we told her she looked far too good and she would have to make herself look like crap for the visit with the lawyer the next day.  

She was in good spirits.  Her dad had come home from the hospital and she only had mild pain in comparison to the night before.  I told Hayley and Nicola how another traveler we’d met in Rio said that he doubted we’d actually get together in England because, in his opinion, people flake out after they meet in booze-filled hostels.  We were happy to prove him wrong, so we took the below photo.  Hayley put her hospital down back on for dramatic effect, and posed for me.

Ha!  We did get together after Rio!

That night, Nicola and I went out for what I thought would be my last Western meal before India.  We chatted about what we were going to do with our lives and then decided that she and Hayley were going to come to the U.S. next summer.  I immediately started planning our itinerary and promised her that we could have lots of Lucky Charms and Fluff if they came.

The next morning, we got ready and Nicola drove me back to the train station in Hayley’s car, fearing that hers might not make it.  So, sadly, I did not get a hysterically laughing peeing-pants ride back.  We said a quick goodbye as I ran into the station, afraid I would miss my train, but neither of us were too sad... We’ll be seeing eachother in NYC in less than a year!!

Manchester: an interesting reunion.

* Apologies for no related photos on this post.  I'm just adding randoms so there is more than just text!*

On Monday, I left Charlotte’s flat with her in the early morning.  We got on the tube together and she instructed me on where to go before I hopped off and she continued on to work.  I had arrived at the train station early, so I did some light shopping.  I got myself some nail polish remover pads because the small bottle I’d had with me kept leaking in my bag, some hand sanitizer because I was headed to India and SE Asia soon, the second Millennium Series book because I was at the end of the first one, and Q magazine because I love it and in England, it doesn’t cost $9 like in the States!

The train ride was relaxing enough.  I finished the first book and started the second and wrote a blog post to post later.  However, the further north we went, the more cloudy it got until it finally started to rain, about an hour outside of Manchester.  Oh no, Charlotte had warned me about this... Apparently Manchester is known as the rainy city in England.  Bummer!

I arrived at the Manchester train station and found my way out to the area where Nicola said she’d pick me up.  I waited about 15 minutes while trying to shield myself from the rain, but she didn’t come.  I started wondering what was going on and went to find a pay phone.  

Not Manchester.  Sintra.

Seriously, you take things for granted when you’re home.  Like pay phones, for instance.  In the States, 1. I never need a pay phone because I've had a cell phone for 10 years and 2. I know which U.S. coins are needed for them.  I got to the pay phone in the train station and found out that it didn’t accept 1 pound coins, so I had to find someone to give me change.  When I finally got it, I called Nicola and she answered right away.

“Hi Alison!  Sorry, mate, we’re on our way!  My car broke down and we had to be pushed... it’s been a mess.”

“Oh, hi friend.  No worries, how long do you think you’ll be?”

“No more than 15 minutes... if the car keeps running...”

So I stayed inside for a while reading my book until 15 minutes had past and then went out to meet her.  She met me by running over to me with open arms and then we headed back to her car.  Nicola’s brother’s girlfriend was in the back seat, I got in the front, and we left the train station.  Nicola warned me that this car was having issues.  Her dad had bought it for her so she would have something to use after traveling, because she sold her car before she left over a year ago, but it wasn’t in the best shape.  

Within 3 minutes, her car had stalled out and we were all in hysterics.  Carrie kept yelling, “Pedal to the floor!” and I just laughed the whole time.  That’s basically how the whole ride back to their home town of Chorley went: the car stalled, we all laughed, Nicola tried desperately to start it, Carrie yelled from the back seat, and I kept laughing as my stomach hurt from laughing so hard and tears streamed down my face.  I was no help whatsoever, but I did laugh harder than I think I had in months.  

We made a brief stop on the way to Chorley at a big shopping mall that they wanted to show me.  I stopped myself from buying anything because I had started to have less and less restraint and knew I needed to reign myself back in.  In one store, I had to go in to marvel at the tables full of American foods such as Fluff ($6 a jar), Lucky Charms Cereal ($8 a box), and jello ($2 a box.)  I flipped out at how expensive it was and they told me that it’s cool to have those things in England because they’re imported.  Weird.  I promised to send a care package once I got back to the States!

We got to Chorley in the late afternoon, dropped Carrie back off at Nicola’s house, and were picked up by her friend shortly after our arrival.  Jenna, Nicola’s friend, was hosting a dinner at her house that night and I was psyched because that was where Hayley, the other friend from Rio, was going to meet us!  

We had to stop off at the grocery store to get some things for dinner and the ladies jokingly told me that this was one of the great places to see in Chorley.  They said the other place was another grocery store.  I reiterated that I wasn’t visiting them to see the sites of Chorley or Manchester, but was there to see them and have fun doing whatever.

We went to Jenna’s place and started cooking.  Her fiance came home, another friend came over, and we chatted with Hayley on the phone to confirm when she would arrive at Jenna’s.

The reason why Hayley wasn’t yet there by the way, or why she hadn’t come with Nicola to pick me up from the train station, was because she had graduated from university that morning.  After graduation, she had been going to various parties to celebrate and was planning to leave the last one around 7:30 to get to Jenna’s around 8:30pm.  

What? Ringo in Chorley?  No, just kidding. I wish.

At 9:30pm, we had all finished eating and were drinking wine and chatting.  I kept wondering why Hayley hadn’t arrived yet.  She had been really excited to see me and had been calling all day to keep us informed of her plans, but now she was an hour late.  I had said something to the group around 9pm and they all laughed and said she was probably just out having fun still, drinking champagne, and celebrating.  But at 9:30, I had a bad feeling and said to Nicola, “Why don’t you just call Hayley and see where she is.”

We all quieted down around the table so Nicola could call her and this is what we heard Nicola say:

“Hi?  Yes.. Okay... Um... Do you need us to come? Sure, sure.  We’ll be there soon.” 

Tears were welling up in her eyes.  

“She’s on her way to the emergency room in Chorley.  That was the EMT answering her phone.”

So we all piled into a car and went to the hospital.  We arrived as the ambulance was wheeling Hayley in, and Nicola went to be with her while the rest of us went into the waiting room.  Nicola came out within a few minutes and explained what had happened:

Hayley, her father, and her father’s girlfriend were coming back from a graduation party.  Hayley and her father were sitting in the back seat and her father’s girlfriend was driving when another car hit them head on at a roundabout.  All three were injured, and while Hayley was taken to this emergency room, the other two had been taken to the hospital that dealt with more serious issues.  While she was on the stretcher, Hayley told Nicola that she was scared about her father and that she needed someone to get the message to her brother without making him panic.  

Long, not so fun story short, we were in the hospital for a few hours before they cleared Hayley to go home.  The ER had cut her dress off of her, so I leant her my long sweater and flip flops and I left in a tank top and her heels. The four of us went to her house to stay with her and Nicola and I decided we’d stay overnight.  The doctors at the other hospital weren’t sure when Hayley’s father and his girlfriend would be able to go.  Apparently her father's girlfriend’s injuries were the worst.  Hayley took some pain killers and went to bed around 1am while the rest of us stayed up until 3:30 trying to help out and keep track of everything.

And that was my first night in Chorley.

London, Take 2!

Once I was on the plane back to London, I was really psyched.  While in Lisbon, I had made plans to see Charlotte, Anna, and Al again in addition to the two Manchester ladies.  I had to hit the ground running though... I only had 4 full days.

I landed Saturday night and got to Chris and Renate’s house as soon as I could.  We had dinner and I told them about my panic attack from that afternoon at the hotel in Lisbon which in retrospect, was pretty funny.  I took a quick shower, slapped on a cute outfit, and was off to East London to meet Charlotte and her friends for some drinks and a party.  Charlotte met me at the tube station around 11pm and the first bar we went to was kind of dead.  We chatted about Lisbon and her new job before deciding to go to the party that her boyfriend was at.  

The only photo I have from our night out...

We got to the party around 1am and saw that it was in full effect.  Charlotte and I snooped around the apartment before settling into the kitchen to meet people and grab a drink.  It was there that I remembered why I hate group living and massive out of control parties.  The floor was so sticky from spilled booze that my flip-flops literally stuck to the floor and I had to pull my leg up with force to get them unstuck.  Also, a mouse ran across the feet of a guy we were chatting to.  

Check please!  Charlotte and I decided to go grab some late night food.  It was around 3:30am and after our ridiculously healthy snack of fried chicken, I opted to head home via cab.  The sun was coming up and the sky was lighting up with the most incredible pink color I had ever seen in a sky.  (Stupidly, I didn’t get my camera out.  I think I didn't due to a combination of being tired and fried chicken coma.)

Charlotte got me settled in my taxi and sent me off.  The driver informed me that a road on the way back to Notting Hill had been closed, so we’d have to take the long way.  I wasn’t bothered -- we had already settled on a fare.

A not so close up pic of Charlotte, Chris & Renate

The taxi ride home was the most amazing ride I’ve ever had.  The sky only got more beautiful as we drove on and we ended up passing many London landmarks on the way back: the London Eye, Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben and Parliament, and Hyde Park.  It was pretty incredible.  I got home around 5am and realized I was again going to get less than 6 hours of sleep.  *Sigh*

On Sunday, Renate, Chris, and I all got into the car along with a picnic lunch and we drove off to Charlotte’s new apartment in Highgate.  I brought all of my stuff with me because I was going to spend the night there with her!  

A few hours later, we’d had a lovely lunch in the park and had explored the grounds a bit.  We took some photos because I realized I had seriously neglected taking any thus far in London.  We all piled back in the car and Charlotte and I decided to go to a bar near Notting Hill to watch the World Cup final with a bunch of her friends.  Chris and Renate generously offered to drive us to the pub so we didn’t have to take the tube.

My view for the World Cup finals... not so great.

We got to the pub and met up with Charlotte’s friend and the gang she was with.  Turns out Charlotte’s friend is dating Sinead O’Connor’s son, which Charlotte whispered to me when we were at the bar getting our beers.  That was probably a bad idea on her part, because instinctually I began singing “Nothing Compares 2 U” and had to shut myself up any time he came near me.  I don’t think he caught on.

A few hours later, the World Cup finally had a winner, but sadly not the one we were rooting for.  With our heads hanging a little lower than when we'd arrived, we made for the tube station and found that 2 of the lines were shut for evening work, and we had to take the most out of the way, backwards approach to Charlotte’s flat.  Ah, public transportation... it never fails to entertain.

Once finally home, I called my ladies in Manchester and ironed out the specifics for my trip there the following morning.  I hung up with a huge smile on my face: Off to see my friends from Rio!!!

Excuse me? How much do I owe??

So Lisbon had been a success.  I had had my own hotel room to chill out in and my own bathroom to take 2 showers a day in while still having people to hang out with.  It was the best of both worlds, but it was also time to go.  I had already moved my flights around, so I would be flying back to London at 3:40pm and wouldn’t continue on to Tel Aviv as previously planned.

Checkout was at 12pm, so at 12:05pm (oops), I marched downstairs with all of my stuff and asked the front desk man if he could hold onto my big backpack until I had to leave at 1:30pm for the airport.  He took it back behind the desk for me.  Then he dropped the bomb.

Some tiles in Lisbon.

“Ma’am, did you have anything from the minibar?”

“No.”

“Alright.  Then your balance on the room is 325 euros.”

“Um.... no it’s not.”

My confusion continued for a few minutes while we discussed the specifics.  I told him that the room was a gift from a client, which I instantly realized made me sound like some kept woman or a hooker or something, and backed up to explain the situation.  It wasn’t easy to explain because the front desk guy didn't speak English well enough to understand exactly what I was saying.  I told him what the email had said from Anthony a week before: “Below is your hotel reservation.  You are my guest.  See you in Lisbon.”

I started to doubt everything... Had I been totally presumptuous?  Had Anthony really just booked me the hotel so I wouldn’t have to find one, but then assumed I would pay for it?  Did I misunderstand the email??  I got online and frantically emailed Anthony.  It was an embarrassing email to write to a man who was already so generous to me.  And now I had to tell him that he hadn’t properly paid for the hotel that I thought he was paying for?  Eek.

30 minutes, still no response from Anthony, most likely because I sent it to him at 7am DC time on a Saturday.  My heart was pounding. I had just changed my flights around for a hefty $400 change fee, which I had figured I could do if I was careful with my budget for the following month, but another 325 euros??  No way could I handle that.  

I didn’t have his number in the States because I stupidly didn’t copy any phone numbers down from my phone before I left in April.  I had his office number from his emails, but again, it was a Saturday at 7am.  

I considered running away and leaving the bill unpaid.  I actually did.  But stupidly I had given the desk guy my backpack to hold onto for me.  Okay, not an option.

What had happened, anyway?  Apparently when the credit card number was given during the reservation process, the hotel had simply used it to reserve the room by paying for only one night.  I asked the desk staff man if we could put it on my card temporarily and once Anthony called, the could take the charge off my card and put it on his?  No, once the card was charged, it was charged.

Finally, in a desperate attempt to get the situation sorted before I had to leave for the airport, I emailed Anthony’s employee in Lisbon, Helena.  We had bonded over dinner, after all, so hopefully talking to her wouldn’t be that awkward?  I asked her if she could call the hotel ASAP and within 5 minutes, so was on the phone for me.

She told me she would pay for it on her card and Anthony would just reimburse her.  I felt weird doing that because in the back on my mind, I kept thinking I had somehow misunderstood the set-up and I didn’t want her to get caught up in the middle.  I asked her if she had his cell phone number in the States and if so, could she please call him.  She did have the number, so we hung up and she went to make the call.

A few minutes later, the hotel phone rang again and it was handed over to me.  It was Helena and she hadn’t been able to get a hold of Anthony.  She had emailed him, hoping he’d get either that or the voicemail she’d left.

Crap.  I had 10 minutes and then I had to leave for the airport.  I got out my credit card and resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be out another $425ish, and then the phone rang.  The desk guy who had been just as frustrated as me for the past hour picked up the phone and smiled.  

It was Anthony!  He had received Helena’s email and voicemail just as he saw my original email and called the hotel immediately.  He and the desk guy talked in Portuguese until they hung up and I was informed that it was all going to be taken care of within a few minutes.  Anthony called back 5 minutes later, told the guy that he’d emailed the release to charge the card on file, and asked to be put on the phone with me.

“Not very sophisticated, this country," he said.

Hehe.  I told him how embarrassed I had been to email him and to call Helena and he stopped me and told me that no, he had wanted it to be his treat.  WHEW!!  I grabbed my bags, hopped in a cab, and was off to the airport.  It took the 20 minute ride for my heartbeat to finally get to its normal resting rate.  

I’m moving to Lisbon (one day)

Everyone should visit Lisbon at some point in their lives!  It’s a beautiful, charming city and I don’t know why it hasn’t ever received much attention.

The view from my hotel.

I can say that now, having been there, but the main reason I went to Lisbon was to see Anthony, client extraordinaire, and generally awesome person.  Anthony has been working in both Washington, DC and Lisbon for a long time now, and since I met him 6 years ago, he has always been going back and forth between the two places.  Anthony has great taste so I figured if he liked it there, I would too.   But even if I didn’t, it’d be fun to see him.  It made sense to stop both in London and in Lisbon for a respite before India and SE Asia.  

I got to Lisbon in the aftermath of the "red shit" evening.  It was July 4th and I was wearing all black.  It was the first 4th of July that I hadn’t been in the States for. :(

That Sunday was a wasted day.  I arrived at the hotel that Anthony had so generously booked for me, and spent the day napping and watching MTV and VH1 (which are AWESOME in Europe because they actually play ONLY music videos!!)

My super awesome room!!

Monday was better.  I was getting ready in the morning when a high school friend of Tomas’ (friend I stayed with in Chile) who had moved to Lisbon messaged me online.  Andrea and I had touched base briefly a few weeks before I’d come, and that morning she asked if I wanted to get together.  Sure!  I told her I needed to get some summer clothing to deal with the 98 degree weather outside.

We met at the metro station close to my hotel and went to a small indoor shopping mall where we found most of the things that I’d wanted: a new bathing suit, a long sun dress, and sunglasses (4th pair so far...)  We talked about Lisbon over a light lunch, about things to do, places to go, and side trips to make.  We agreed to go to Sintra together on Friday.

That night, I met Anthony for drinks first at the Ritz and then he took me to a crazy bar that he owns.  The crazy bar had thousands of things collected items hanging from the ceilings, in cases on the walls, or on shelves: anything from model airplanes to old hats.  We had Pimms to help combat the sweltering heat.  (Listen up, Americans, you need to try one!  So good!)  Anthony had one of his employees, Helena, meet us at the second bar and by the end of our drink, she and I had set up a dinner date for Wednesday.

So far, the social calendar was looking full which was a good thing because I wasn’t going to be meeting anyone in my hotel.  

Tuesday morning, Andrea messaged me again and said she wanted to take me to a restaurant so I could try fresh sardines.  Hmmm, sardines?  I agreed because I thought I needed to stop being a wuss even though all I could think about were the little sardine filets that come in tin cans and I thought “How am I going to eat them if they’re so small?”

Turns out sardines are actually pretty big.  They’re about 7-8 inches long, 3 inches wide, and about 1 0r 2 inches in depth.  Andrea taught me how to properly take apart a fish, but the heads grossed me out so she took them off for me.  So much for not being a wuss...  After lunch, Andrea showed me her apartment which was a top floor unit and had NO AIR CONDITIONING!  How miserable!  Afterwards, to combat the sweat that had formed on our temples, we went to a cafe to get iced coffees.

That night I had dinner with Anthony’s family out at the beach.  His sister-in-law picked me up at the hotel with her son and daughter in tow, and we drove the 20 minutes south until we reached a restaurant on the beach.  Anthony pointed out a fish that I had to have as my entree and I laughed to myself over the fact that I was eating only fish all day (but at least this time I would know how to properly eat it...) There were 9 of us at the table and it was really great to feel like part of the family as we discussed everything from Anthony’s theory on relationships to the new Millennium series movies.  I got dropped off back at the hotel around 1am.

Wednesday day, Andrea and I got together again and Anthony’s employee Helena and I had dinner that evening. Helena and I discussed my lack of job and all of the things that I should probably not worry about right now, so I won’t even write about it on here!  The dinner was lovely, though.

Some new Portuguese friend's: Xico and co.

Thursday: great day!  I spent the afternoon lazily walking around downtown Lisbon looking at the buildings, poking around into shops, and sitting at a cafe drinking coffee.  I started imagining myself living there for maybe a year or two... as long as I learned Portuguese.  Maybe Anthony would hire me?

That night, Anthony’s nephew Xico had invited me to go to a music festival, Optimus Alive, with him.  I didn’t know him or his friends, but saw some photos on Facebook of them all and they looked nice enough.  And cute.  So I agreed.  Around 6pm, Xico’s friend picked me up and we drove to the area where the show was and waited for the others.  About an hour later, we had a group of about 12 together and were walking into the huge festival grounds.

Kasabian

There were three tents and about 20 bands or acts on the bill for the night.  We went back and forth all night between the different tents, seeing some awesome sets by Kasabian, Alice in Chains, and Faith No More.  At one point, I ran to the bathrooms only to return to no one standing where I was told they’d be waiting for me.  I freaked out a bit, partially because I couldn’t speak Portuguese and partially because one of Xico’s friends who had told me he thought George W. Bush was the best president the Unites States had ever had was holding onto my expensive SLR camera.  Before completely losing it, I decided to go back to the last tent we had been at and I found them there.  After a quick spaz-out on the George W lover, I was over it.

Pena Palace.

Friday was my last day in Lisbon.  As planned, Andrea and I went to Sintra, a town inland from Lisbon where there is a famous palace, Castelo de Pena. She and I took the train ride up and spent a couple hours exploring the castle.  It felt nice to actually go see something instead of just shopping or aimlessly wandering.  I took a ton of photos are the ones shown are just a couple so if you want to see more, let me know.  It was really an amazing building and grounds.

That night, I met up with my Aunt, her husband Eddie, my cousins Kara and Dana, and Eddie’s son and daughter-in-law for dinner.  It had turned out that they were all on a family vacation at a beach north of Lisbon for the same week I was there, so once we realized that, we made sure that we’d have a night to get together and this was it!  Last night in Lisbon with family -- what a great way to spend it!

Cousins!

We had an amazing dinner where I was asked to tell some of the things I’d seen and done thus far, but I was just as interested to hear about Kara’s new apartment and Dana’s new career aspirations.  Afterwards, the “kids” went out to Barrio Alto, a hilly area in Lisbon with lots of clubs and bars along it and with tons of people walking about.  We had one drink but decided that we should all head in early so we could get our flights home (and back to London) and the morning.  Obrigada, Portugal!