Woke up and hit up the Pasties Belem one last time. Like I said it didn't disappoint.
Headed through the mountains and windy roads to Monchique. Walked around the city and stopped to eat at Barelefante, a sweet bar/restaurant we found by following signs up a narrow stair lined street. We ordered the locally made drink firewater... not realizing that it was a well deserved name. After drinking the liquor from strawberries, we were breathing fire for quite some time. The food was also really good... I took a hot dog sandwich that had a bunch of good stuff on it, sounds gross but was delicious. We checked out an old abandoned convent up on the top of the hill before heading to Lagos, baby!
I am going to let Troy do a little guest writing and write about our first night in Lagos... I will just say that it was a wild one indeed. More to follow.
TROY SPACE
July 16:
Woke up from our late night and headed to The Odeon for breakfast. This place was amazing and provided me the best breakfast since the BOSS HOG. It was cheap, delicious, greasy, and although I hate to say it puts the Tavern to shame.
After breakfast, we headed for Sagres, one of the jewels of the Algarve Coast of Portugal. It is the most Westerly point in Europe and offers breathtaking views of rocky cliffs plunging into crystal clear blue and turquoise water.
We stopped at a beach at the base of one of these cliffs, not far from the most Westerly point. It was absolutely beautiful, the sand as fine as can be, probably my favorite beach of the entire trip. The wind made the sand nip at our legs a bit, but for me it was still numero uno.
We went out for a few drinks to cap the day off (becoming a bit of a routine, but can you blame us?). I fell asleepish in the first bar for the second time in the week (the other time in Lisbon) which was strange but we went back to 3 Monkeys afterwards and that picked up my pace a bit. On the way back to the campsite, we ran into an Australian guy who had done running of the bulls the same day as us. Only difference was he got pulled over leaving and got arrested for a DUI. He blew a .032 and the legal limit in Spain is .o3. He said, "While I waited for bail money to be wired to my bank account, I sat in the police station playing with toy cars while the greatest party in the world was going on right next door." And to this I say... Don't drink and drive.
July 17: Our triumphant return to Spain goes sour
Woke up and hit up the Odeon for another scrumptious breakfast. Filled up with greasy/amazing food, we took to the beach again. We struck out in the first town we tried, a place that would come to my mind when thinking of Juarez, Mexico. We rebounded quickly (after driving around the same round-about 4 times trying to decide where to go) and ended up in a really nice spot. After spending the afternoon at an island beach in Tavira (located out on a sand bar and accessible only by boat), we left the Algarve Coast of Portugal behind, bound for Sevilla.
We got into our Sevilla campsite at around 9, quickly set up shop, and then headed into Sevilla for some evening food and fun.
Mistake number 1) Assuming that parking the van right off of a busy street would be okay
Mistake number 2) Giving a guy a few coins to watch over the parking area
and I quote from my travel survival book chapter on "Foiling a Scam Artist,"
"Random Acts of Kindness: When you ask for assistance, chances are you're going to find some lovely, helpful people. When you get approached, you need to be somewhat suspicious."
Oops!
Mistake number 3) Putting valuables in the glove box
Mistake number 4) Not locking the glove box
Back to the action... starving, we park the car and look for food. We decide on a tapas restaurant called "Matahambre", meaning "Kill Hungry." Now this is something I had longed to do since being in Barcelona with no money and having to walk by amazing looking tapas bars daily without being able to sample even one little morsel. Well this night I had my revenge, loading up our table with delicious food. We enjoyed the meal, which stands out as one of my favorite since being in Europe, Spanish style. We ate from 11-1 and topped it off with a Carujillo (Coffee with Cognac).
With dinner finished, we crossed the river to check out the Sevilla nightlife along Calle Betis. It didn't disappoint and we danced late into the morning. When we decided to head back to the car, we were met with our first major dilemma of the thus far problemless trip. When we got to the car, we found the front passenger window smashed in, the glove box open, and Rachel's ipod, Bart's GPS, and Aaron's camera, with tons of great great pics and videos gone. Unfortunately, this time I would not be able to retrieve the camera for Troy. Luckily they had just gone for the glove box because Bart's really nice camera was left under the front seat along with some other stuff. We were careless and unfortunately paid the price.
I called the police and went to the corner to waive them down. When they arrived, I asked if they wanted to see the car and they said no. Instead, they said I would have to come to the police station with them to fill out the report. So, here we were in the early morning hours, in Sevilla, heading to the police station in the back of a police car. Bart and I, being the people on the title of the rental car had the luxury of experiencing the ride to the station. We were let into the car and put in the back seat, which was made of hard plastic shaped in a way that dug into your back if you leaned against the back of the seat. We watched as the policemen blew threw red lights going 90 km/hr on the small streets. It was almost like a scene out of Superbad except our stuff was stolen and we weren't nearly as bad ass.
When we got to the station, they put me on a phone with an English speaking officer to answer questions from the report. Now, I don't know if it was because I was nervous having to speak in Spanish to the officers, the uncomfortable seats, but as I am talking on the phone with this unknown guy, I suddenly have to go pee really really bad. This is a problem that I have never had, but lately when I have to go, I have to go. So I ask the officer on the phone to please hold on and set the phone down. I leave the small room they have put us in and go back to the officers, who are standing around talking. I ask them if I may use the bathroom, to which they respond "There is no bathroom here." A little confused as to how there could be no bathroom in a police station that takes up almost an entire block in one of Spain's biggest cities, I headed back to the phone room. I told Bart what they said, and that I thought I was going to pee in my pants and then got back on the phone with this officer. By now I am doing the potty dance hard core and again have to get off the phone, this time handing it over to Bart.
I went back to the officers to pretty much plead with them to let me use a bathroom, but they continued to treat me as if I were the criminal. They again said there were no bathrooms for me to use. I could now see the scenario playing out in my head... The officers making bets on how long it would take for me to pee my pants... me peeing in my pants in the police station, much to the delight of the winning officer... them arresting me for public urination... me spending the rest of the vacation/my life locked in the Sevilla jail... Shit.
I head to the room where Bart has just finished talking to the voice, who hung up on Bart as he was asking what he should do next. We went to tell the men in blue that we were done, and they asked me to follow them into a different office. Bart started to come with us and they yelled at him to get back, again treating us like we were the ones who had broken into the car. So, with Bart left behind, I was taken into the room to finish the rest of the report, this time answering questions in Spanish (Thank you Cesar Chavez Elementary). I somehow managed not to pee in my pants, although it was close several times and when we finished some 20 minutes later they gave us 2 options. 1) We leave the car where it was to be finger printed on Monday (it was now early saturday morning) or 2) Agree to not have the car finger printed and they let us know if anything happens.
Unable to leave the car with the broken window in the middle of Sevilla for the rest of our stuff to be stolen, after conferring with Bart, we decided to sign to not have the car undergo the investigation and cut our losses. I asked if there was any way for us to get a ride back to the car and the officers said no (we were probably a good 10-15 minute drive away from it). I asked if they could show me how to get back on our map and they said no, that I would get lost.
Having survived the experience at the station, we left (waddling down the street) and as soon as out of eye sight, I relieved myself. A few thoughts... Spanish authorities from my experiences are real pricks, I am really glad I know Spanish, don't park a car with non Spanish plates on the street in Sevilla.
A little dejected, we headed back to the campsite with the breeze blowing through our now open passenger window. Welcome to Sevilla.
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