Rainy Days in the Beach Town of Lagos

Disclaimer: Another post advocating the delinquincy of minors and with many alcoholic references. Be advised, not for children or anyone who might yell at me.

Okay, so I realize this post is about a week delayed. I have a tendency for laziness and procrastination. So consider this happening before the "Happy MarcLarance Barcelona" post and then everything will be in order.

So 2 weeks ago now I went with a bunch of friends to the Portuguese beach town of Lagos. Located on the Atlantic in southern Portugal, Lagos is a small cobble-stone street town with a lot of open-air cafes, frequent postcard stands, and its fair share of bars and discotecas. The beach is a beautiful one, small in size but gorgeous, surrounding by cliffs and blossoming with towering rock formations that one could dive from if the tides were in (they were one day...no, I didn't jump).

I came on the afternoon bus from Sevilla with my friends Ryan and Mary Rosser and we arrived in Lagos around 10 or 10:30. Mary Rosser was staying in a different hostel from us, and she had been in Lagos this weekend before so she went on her way immediately after picking up her bag. Ryan and I felt pretty stupid as we had completely forgotten to get an address or directions to our hostel, called the Monkey House, but we were fortunate in that the other 30 Americans on our bus studying in a different program in Sevilla all were staying there as well. What's more, one of the girls in the program is a very good friend of my friend and boss Kelsey! Talk about a small world. Anyway, we chatted with the other group while following them to the hostel. Though they did have written directions, we still had to stop and ask for help a few times, and were finally led there by a kind Australian man who was headed in that direction. After that first time, though, I didn't really need much help around town. It's fairly small, and we were pretty much in the center. The Monkey House, being my first hostel experience (and definitely not in Amsterdam like that gorey movie from a few years back), was very nice. The receptionist was a cute girl from Germany (or thereabouts, her accident was a little difficult to pin down and I never asked) and the hostel itself was fairly nice. Felt like one of those hole-in-the-wall places you're so glad you try that one time and keep going back. Walking up a curving staircase to the second floor and the rooms, I shared mine with Ryan, my friend Rahmin, and two Australian girls. I ended up sleeping in the bottom bunk we came to call The Cave, since regardless of the time of day or lighting situation in the room, almost zero light actually made it to the back corner where I slept. Ryan and I threw our stuff down and decided to go look for the other large group of our friends who had left for Portugal early that morning.

We walked down the street and actually ran into them within 5 minutes. Most of them were returning from dinner or somesuch so they ran back to their hostels (some were with us in the Monkey House, some were in the Lagos Youth Hostel, and some were in the Rising Cock Hostel...do most hostels have fun names?). I convinced Ryan that we should start drinking now while it was still Happy Hour at the bar we were standing in front of called The Jam, where a nice guy named Jim from San Diego gave us some fliers and chatted for a bit. The Jam would become our place for the rest of the weekend. So we go in and order some LI Ice Teas (they were 3,50 Euro a pint!) We went through those fairly quickly as the other members of the group slowly trickled into the bar. Drinking went steadily for another hour or so and JoAnne somehow convinced me to try this shot called The Sucker.

The Sucker: a shot of Sambuca. Light the top of the shot, then slowly lower a glass over it, catching the fumes, until the fire goes out. Remove the glass and cover so as to not allow any vapors to escape. Use a straw to sip the shot, then use the straw to inhale the fumes. Requires 2 people (1 drinker, 1 bartender).

After that, you can imagine I was pretty hyped. We all had a few more drinks before heading out to Joe's Garage, where about 5 or 6 of us danced for about 3 solid hours. There were only 6 of us because everyone else had quit due to sheer exhaustion from their early wake up and a day at the beach. I returned to the Monkey House happily drunk with my friends Sarah Underwood (there are 2 Sarahs on the trip) and Kerry. I would have enjoyed promptly falling asleep, but the Australian girl sleeping in the bunk above me had gotten sick drunk and was moaning and whining pathetically for much of the night, so I had to endure that for about 30 minutes before I managed to sneak away into oblivion (and away from the edge of the bed in case she vomited, which she did but in the bathroom).

I woke up absurdly early the next morning, at least for me, around 8 am and couldn't fall back asleep. I was delighted to discover I did not feel at all hungover, merely groggy from lack of sleep and a long night. I tried to go back to sleep for about an hour unsuccessfully but finally got up and went down to breakfast with Rahmin. He had gotten up before dawn and gone down to the beach to watch the sun rise. After a pleasant (if not particularly filling) breakfast of toast and 1 hardboiled egg, Rahmin and I decided to hit up the beach. It was slightly chilly that morning, and the beach was cool. A storm was coming in so it was hard to convince ourselves to actually get in the water. In the end though, the water felt warmer than the sand or air, and after two or three successful runs in, I managed to convince Rahmin to dive in as well. We only stayed on the beach for an hour or so before heading back, since no one was joining us. We putzed around in the hostel for a bit after that, grabbing showers and changing, waiting for Ryan to get up, etc. Ryan and some of the girls from our group staying in the Monkey House decided to head down to the beach with our recommendation, but Rahmin and I were hungry so we decided to grab burgers at this place called Cafe Odeon (I ended up eating there 3 times in 2 days). The burger wasn't bad but the fries were excellent. After that, Rahmin and I did a little exploring around town, I picked up some souvenirs and a pair of flip-flops (thongs as they are called by some Australians we met the next day). The sun came out, so we decided to head back to the beach with some of our group. I was the only one who really went swimming at all, diving back in as soon as I stripped off my shirt. Dino did join me at one point, but everyone else was chicken (though they did jump off the 45' rock and I didn't...) There were a bunch of funny/interesting pictures taken, and a large portion of the group scaled the rock that jutted out into the water in order to take the plunge. I had more fun clammering up and down the route practicing my climbing techniques, and I didn't jump (are you crazy?! 45' is really high!) We all headed back in once it started raining, and returned to the Monkey House. Now all of us were hungry, and most of us wanted dinner. I was again tempted by Cafe Odeon, some others went to a Thai place they later recommended highly.

That night was another evening of drunken revelry, though it began raining as we were heading out, which added a bit of a dampener, though most of us ignored it easily. Another night begun at The Jam, where by this point I had become quite friendly with both bartenders, Sugar and Jamie, and even had a shot poured for me by the owner (it tasted kinda like cookies). I started off not feeling particularly keen on going out, but after Sugar enticed me to another Sucker I was ready to go. We spent around 2 solid hours at the Jam, drinking, listening to music, chatting, and taking pictures, then a good group of us headed for Joe's Garage again. We danced for a while again, and then I walked a few girls home through the rain. I wasn't quite ready to call it a night, so I grabbed one last beer at The Jam, went back to Joe's and dragged everyone back to The Jam to end the night. The bar closed, but we didn't leave quite yet. Jamie kept playing great songs, so everyone just kept dancing. After about 5 or 6 songs, I finally overcame the urge to keep dancing and we all left, with a last farewell to Sugar and Jamie.

Our last day in Lagos was a bust, with flashflooding and a constant downpour. However, those of us in the Monkey House spent the day chatting with some Australians and watching movies, generally staying out of the rain. We visited Odeon one last time during a lull in the storm for lunch, and then I went to the diner (a real American-style diner) next to our hostel for dinner. Got a large plate of pasta that I housed in less than 10 minutes, followed by a plate of garlic bread and a piece of caramel cake. I called it an early night since I had to be up at 5:45 for my 6:30 bus back to Spain.

Lagos only reinforced my desire to spend part of my life by the sea, and I hope that I'll be able to go back once before I leave Spain. Go back and visit the guys at The Jam one last time. I do so love the beach.