Lagos, Portugal

Travels


My well-deserved (if I say so myself) fall break from the corporate auditor life finally came around and I’m back in Lagos, Portugal! I’ve been waiting for this week ever since June, when I, in a very hungover state of mind, left my favorite surf hostel without my passport. Great story by the way, but that’ll have to wait.

In 2009 I stumbled upon a newspaper article (http://www.b.dk/rejseliv/surf-s-up-i-portugal), about a surf camp that had been running since 1992. It sounded like everything I needed in my life and in that moment I decided that learning how to surf was in the cards for me, so I saved the article on my computer and spent the next years frequently daydreaming about what was to come. Fast forward 6 years to June, 2015, where I finally decided that it was time, and ventured to the surf camp on my very first solo adventure. That trip ended up being one of the best things I have ever done for myself, hence why I am back, this time in November.

Getting here was quite interesting. I was at work until 10 pm Friday night, the last few hours, however, were mainly spent eating dinner and drinking leftover wine from the celebration of promotions that had gone on in the afternoon. I had convinced a lovely coworker of mine to stay at work with me and keep me company. She ended up convincing me to go out for gin and tonics after I was done with my work -knowing that I had to leave my apartment at 3 am and that I still had not packed. My hesitance went away after my department leader overheard our conversation and said “you’re only young once!!”

We ended up at The Bird and The Churchkey, better known as Gin Bar, where I had a few lovely gin and tonics and met a group of middle aged men that thought it was absolutely splendid that I had to leave the bar early to go on a solo surftrip to Portugal – The only reasonable reason there ever was to leave a party early.

I made it home in time, quickly and drunkenly gathered my stuff, and sat down on my couch. I quickly realized that the idea of only bringing handluggage for a week didn’t even come close to matching up with drunk packing, so I just brought my big old red suitcase. Business as usual. After sitting down on the couch quickly I realized that I would fall a sleep if I didn’t get up and do something, so I headed for the airport a bit early.

Flash forward and I am in Portugal. Even in the same room in the hostel as the last time, except a Canadian girl named Amanda has my bed this time. A bunk bed will do just fine this time. We just had a very nice dinner, best salmon I’ve ever had and lots of lots of green wine. After a glass of bourbon on top I’m feeling a bit “pissed” like my new British friends would say it. We finished off strong after a rainy day of surfing.

I’ll get back to more details on the surfing in another post, this was more of just a “holla, I’m in Portugal” kind of thing. Oh yeah and it’s pouring down rain here, so there’s no reason to be jealous. Yet. Hopefully the sun will shine tomorrow and that’ll all change.

// Annika

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