Lagos is a small town in Portugal built on a large hill overlooking the Mediterranean Ocean. 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. 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 if you re looking for a little beach time. Just make absolutely sure you write down the address of where you are staying.
Lost in Lagos, Portugal
