Lost in
Lagos, Portugal
by: Rick Chapo
Lagos is a small town in
Portugal built on a large hill overlooking the
Mediterranean Sea. While its old world charm
is evident during the day, it can be a real pain
at night.
Upon arriving by train in
Lagos, I quickly booked a bed in a private home
with a local family. I was loaded in a car and
driven to the home that was just over the crest
of the hill on which Lagos is built. From the
home, it was about a mile down to the beaches
and water. Ah, good old exercise.
Being from San Diego, I
immediately put on my trunks, flip flops and
headed for a swim. As I came over the top of the
hill, I looked around to get my bearing and
admire the view of the sleepy town of Lagos. It
reminded me of home and I stomped on down to the
water with a smile on my face.
While swimming and
catching a tan [okay, sunburn], I met some
fellow travelers from London. From the beach,
they took me to see cultural sites such as
museums and so on. Okay, we went to a couple of
bars. As evening turned into night, I endeavored
to turn in early as I was burnt out from the
long train ride from Lisbon, Portugal. We agreed
to meet the next day and I congratulated myself
on my restraint as I walked out of the drinking
establishment.
As I walked along, it
dawned on me that I didn’t know the name of the
street I lived on. No reason for alarm. I was at
the bottom of the hill and a mile or so up on
the top was my room. Figuring I would see
something familiar, I started huffing it up the
hill.
Many of us non-Europeans
go to Europe for the historic effect. Tiny
winding streets with cobblestones are a personal
favorite, but not when you’re wearing flip flops
and there is practically no lighting. I fell on
my butt at least twice on dew covered
cobblestones. As I neared the top of the hill, I
managed to crack my right foot on one of those
owe so cute half curbs that seem to appear
throughout Europe.
Making matters worse, I
was lost. I stopped to get my bearings and tried
to avoid thinking about the sticky, wet feeling
on my right flip flop. It was useless. There
wasn’t enough light to make out much and what I
could see was completely unfamiliar. There were
people walking around, but I couldn’t ask them
for help since I had been to stupid to write
down the address of my host.
Being a typical male, I
took the only logical option available to me. I
walked up and down streets for roughly two
hours, got chased by two dogs, cracked my right
foot AGAIN on curb and generally developed a bad
mood.
Just as I was
contemplating sleeping in the bushes, I rounded
the corner and there it was. The most beautiful
little white house with a $6 room in Lagos.
Delusional and tired, I staggered up to the
door. It was locked. I gathered my wits and
knocked. The lady of the house opened the door,
looked me up and down and started giggling.
Like a wayward son, she
took me into the kitchen and made some tea. I
had scrapes on my knees and the toenail on the
big toes of my right foot was an international
disaster zone. She and her husband kept asking
me if I had been in a fight!
Lagos is a great town in
Portugal if you’re looking for a little beach
time. Just make absolutely sure you write down
the address of where you are staying.
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