So after the quick stop through Sintra I was on my way to Lagos. It is the southern most part of Portugal in a region known as the Algarve region. It was a 4 hour train ride from Sintra to Lagos. I don’t know what it is about trains but they tend to put me right to sleep. Unless, of course, they are night trains, in which case I am wise awake, backwards as fuck, I know.

Anyway the train to Lagos was teeming with fellow backpackers, of about the same age, I hadn’t done any research on the place, more or less a word of mouth decision, but while on that train I knew I was heading in the right direction.

I stepped off of the train into baking sun and 90 degree heat, wandered around until I found my hostel. The dude running it, Jay, was a super cool dude, so I was pumped on that, however, the actual hostel was kinda lame, no common room, tiny patio with a view of nothing more than another building, and I turned out to be the only guest that night, fucking lame…I seriously don’t get how his hostel has gotten such raving reviews, 9.4/10, bullshit! But I went to the beach that night and understood why this place, the Algarve, is all the rage, I could definitely put up with a shit hostel. The beaches are so incredible! Never been anywhere quite like it.

I went to the beach that night, 5 PM on a Sunday, and was able to find my own strip with no one else on it. There are so many little beaches all connected by caves. The tidal influence is massive down there, about 8 feet of depth difference depending on the tides, some beaches you can walk to at low tide but are only accessible by water at high tide, some are only accessible by water at all times, as I would later discover. That night I went out to the bars with some of the people that worked at the hostel and wound up getting twisted.

I awoke with vague memories of some wild dancing on tables at some bar the night before and sadly the first true hangover over the trip, the 4 week bender had finally caught up and sunk it’s viscous teeth into the back of my skull. I was bummed….and not stoked on the lack of atmosphere at my hostel to help me relax and let the pain fade away. I lied in bed looking for other hostels in the area, finally summoned up the courage to get out of bed around 2:30 PM. I knew sunshine and beach time would do me right.

I wandered the town, grabbed some feed n’ wine and scouted out other possible hostels and eventually found my way to the beach. It was really crowded when I showed up, however, I was able to walk through some caves wade some water and find myself a nice private strip of sand.

I was laying there for about a half hour, was planning on reading, writing, and relaxing when….

Not even shitting you, that is exactly how it went down, I was just laying there and she approached me. The timing!!! Hahahaha This is the inverse of what usually happens and essentially what all dudes dream of, a good looking French girl to come up and ask if she could come lay by you in a private little cove of a beach…

Her name is Kristel and it turns out she is a yoga instructor

She and I chilled on the beach for a while, drank some wine, and got to know each other a little bit.

We passed the time until the heat wore off and then hiked around to some of the other beaches.

Eventually we made out way into town and had a bomb dinner at “The Green Room” a good little Mexican joint in the old part of town. Even though I was staying a shit hostel things were looking up for me! She and I made plans to meet up in the AM and go find more rad stuff to do, we did nothing short of that.

We rented paddle boards, strapped them to her car and hit the road for a place called Lagoa.

Turns out that, not only is she a teacher of yoga, she does 3 sessions a week while she is on a paddle board. It was hard for me to keep up, but we both made it out alive, she was always in the the lead though, hard to lose to a chick…. It was super gnarly getting into the cave that we went into, I wadded it up and lost my tee shirt to the ocean, had to swim the dog into and out of the cave due to the surf sloshing into that hog. I thought I was gonna die or kill the dog or both, but stayed alive and the lifeproof case on my phone passed the test with flying colors! My flip flops did not pass the test however…

I “busted a plugga” as the Aussies would say. The exact sentence I got out of someone when I showed them the busted flop was, “Aye man ya blew a plug out, that heaps shit mate.” Haha I love Aussie talk.

Portugal has the most western point of the European continent so, Kristel and I  drove out to “The end of the western world” as a it is colloquially called in Lagos.

I was great company on the drive out….

I may have failed to impress, but the sunset did not.

Kristel had to leave the next day to get back to work, the invite to go stay with her was/is still open, but things were going so well in Lagos that I decided to book a few more nights at another hostel, it was called “Olive’s Hostel” and it was probably the best choice of my trip this far.

It was seriously such a good vibe from the moment I walked into the place. Felt like home, everyone called Claudia, the manager of the hostel, “Mom” she was great! I ended up meeting 5 dudes from Australia that were super bad ass. Ironically two of them were sitting at the table behind Kristel and I at “The Green Room” the first night I met her…They recognized the beard hahaha….

They are pretty hard core with the partying, they all had just come from Lisbon, and they all had gotten shitting matching tattoos that said “Drink Beer or Die” wrapped around a frosty pint glass. The color didn’t look too good, but hey, I think they all got screamin’ deals on the tats! Haha We had a rowdy night or two together. Went to the beach with lots of people from the hostel, played drinking games on the rooftop terrace and just relaxed, I even slept in the hammock for the better part of a night. It was a very solid 5 nights in Lagos, I’d highly recommend it!

Don’t forget the wine, on my way to Seville, can’t wait to see what happens next!

-Cbutter