Day 24 Faro Portugal

Wednesday night with little sleep—not a good start; Thursday morning 4.5 hour bus ride to NYC with no sleep—doing fine; 2 hour bus ride to JFK with no sleep—doing okay; 8 hours on a plane to Dublin with maybe 15-30 minutes of sleep—I have felt better; 4 hours in airport with heavy breakfast and a pint—maybe not so helpful; 1.5 hours on a plane with no sleep—feeling rundown ; 2 hours in London’s Gatwick airport with no sleep—out right tired; 4.5 hours on a plane with a rowdy cricket team and 60 geriatric English tourist—wishing I was dead; Arrival at dusk in Faro—beautiful; taxi to hostel—10 euros; being dropped off in the dark at the wrong address—priceless.

I expected some difficulties and exhaustion so it wasn’t such a big deal, mostly because my driver only missed his mark by 50 feet. I walked in the right direction and saw the very small hostel sign on the next doorway. Whew! I checked in for 4 nights at $7/night including breakfast. I think my budget will be much easier to follow here. I was given breakfast coupons and a key to room four with the instructions to leave it at the desk whenever I went out. No problem…yet….

I settled into the room, taking a noisy top bunk, and after locking the door I went out to put my things in the hall locker when a 15ish Portuguese said in rough English that he needed my key to change his clothes in the room. He seemed nice and I was in no shape to argue. I gave him the key and he went to the common room to watch TV and laugh with his friends (???). After about 15 minutes of trying to stay awake I went out and asked for the key back. I was asleep when the knock came on the door. It was an English speaking hostel employee informing me that I had the only key to the room and I had locked everyone out. It was a shared key for all four people. Oops. I apologized for the mistake and slept for 10 hours.

Breakfast was 2 very large fresh crusty rolls, jam, butter, ham, cheese, cornflakes, yogurt, orange juice, and 50/50 coffee and hot milk. It was even served to us in a very clean cafeteria style line. Needless to say I was impressed after the pathetic and not free Danish at the DC hostel. With that good start I headed out.

The old town is only a couple blocks from the hostel, although it was too early when I went through; everything was closed. I wandered the streets a bit and went into a grocery store to get lunch supplies: grapes, a little round of some truly fantastic cheese, hot crusty bread, dried sausage, EV olive oil, a juice size box of wine (31 cents), and a six pack of Limao bottles (lemon drink). The olive oil drove up the price to 12 euros, otherwise it would have been 5 euros.

On my way back to the hostel I stopped in the public aviary park next door to the hostel and saw that they have free internet service. The internet at the hostel is 5 euros/30 min or 50 euros/week! No thanks.

Life is good. I am off to explore,

Tchau!

Day 23 Stuck in Dublin Airport

I took the bus to New York City bus terminal and then another to JFK. Traffic was awful, several people on the bus missed their flights. I barely made it in time to sit on the plane for two hours before finally taking off. My first view of Ireland was of the misty and jagged hills that crash suddenly into the ocean outside Dublin. I couldn't have asked for a better first glimpse.

Now I am in Dublin without enough time to run into the city and grab a pint. It just isn't the same at the airport. Of course it is 5 am my time so maybe that is for the best.

The British Airways queue leads to a temporarily different airline (TAP) I found out after waiting in line for half an hour. Even better, it doesn't switch over to the BA desk for another hour. Oh well, it gives me time to blog for 30 minutes at $7.

Add-on:

Ran out of internet time so I went and had an "Irish breakfast" of sausage, ham, egg, and black and white pudding(it was good, not sure I want to know what it was) and then rounded it out with a pint to balance out all the animal fat. Surprised? Probably not.

I paid another $7 for internet access while I wait. It is only money, right?

Day 21 Back in DC

We found a Spanish bar called Cafe Citron that not only had a little too delicious mojitos and great food, but a Flamenco dancer and singer. Now I have seen Flamenco in movies and was always intrigued; in person, it was captivating. The combination of the unique singing style, the pounding of the dancer's feet on the heavily worn floor, and the rythmic clapping, it was intense. Even better was being there with friends and having a great time comparing funny words that are not entirely suitable for this format. One of the best is the Brazilian word for the crack that shows when someone bends over with too low of pants--they call it a piggy bank. I had the urge all night to deposit some coins when the opportunity arose. It was a good night.

I have averaged $105/day in DC and Philly. It is more than I wanted for a few reasons. More expensive hotel stays in Philly, and perhaps most deserving of blame is the high cost of having a good time with your friends. Typically, $50/night is normal for food and drinks. I am looking forward to getting to a less expensive country. I leave for Portugal on Thursday, arriving on Friday night.