Thursday, November 18, 2010

Surfing in Lagos

From Sevilla we traveled by bus to Lagos, located at the southern tip of Portugal. It is part of the Algarve region. It is known as the party city of Portugal and is a stop that is frequented often by retired Brits on holiday. We arrived in the dark on a mostly empty bus. We promptly got lost trying to find the hostel but were escorted most of the way and pointed in the right direction by a kind Portuguese man. Once again, we were blown away by the kindness of people. We stayed at the Rising Cock Hostel. It had good ratings on Hostelworld and we liked the name. For dinner, we munched on perhaps the most amazing nachos in my life at the NahNahBah and listened to reggae music where the singer was very concerned about his coconuts. The hostel had great energy and welcomed everyone to the party. We walked into drinking games and went out to the bar with our new friends. In the morning, we were welcomed by a very proud Portuguese Mama. "I am Mama. This is our house, this is our family. Everyone here is family. And I am the Mama of the house. I will make you crepes. And drink my magic lemon tea. See, it is magic. Very good after a night of partying and too much to drink. And if you are sick, you put a little honey in it. But if you are hungover, it is best just plain. I am the Mama, I take care of my family. When you are here, you are family."

Lagos is known for surfing. Melissa was very excited when she discovered this as she had really enjoyed her previous surfing experiences. We learned of a company that provided the board, wet suit, lesson and a lunch for €45. It seemed like a fantastic deal. Because of our late arrival the night before, we were unable to prebook but when we went to the meeting place, we were told to hop in. We loaded up into a van with Andres, the Portuguese surfer and instructor and bounced out to the beach. We were joined by a kid from Southern California and experienced surfer who just wanted to enjoy the waves. Two young British men joined our lesson and we learned the basics of surfing. I had never surfed before and felt completely out of my element. The concept of surfing is simple. You go out with your board and wait to catch a wave. Once you are part of the wave, you stand up on the board and ride it in. I enjoyed catching the waves and riding them in on my board. However, I felt totally unbalanced and phenomenally awkward with the board and standing on the board seemed like a terrible idea. I feel that to be good at surfing, one has to be light, quick, agile, and have good balance. None of which are attributes that I have. It made me fall even more in love with running because I can simply put one foot in front of the other and determination is appreciated. I guess determination also has a place in surfing. The waves were quite strong and you seemed to be pushed and pulled by the currents. As I waded out from the beach, I kept thinking, "Hey! I have a great idea! Let's give Kate a board taller than she is and put her out with a bunch of big waves and tell her to catch one. Better yet, expect her to stand up on her really big board. What a fantastic idea!" I was able to get to my knee and have one foot up for a very brief shining moment before falling into the water. Surfing is a great workout and you need good core and upper body strength. After two months of travel and days filled with walking to see the sights but not actual workouts, we felt pathetically weak, and the following day, quite sore. Despite the fact that I got completely beat up by the sea, I did enjoy surfing and it was a lot of fun. I gained a new respect for the ocean. Even the small waves in which I played had so much power. The ocean is truly a magnificent thing full of incredible power and potential. Mighty, majestic, wise and wonderful. Surfing is great because it is simply about enjoying the power. One doesn't try to harness the power. You just appreciate it and partake in its glory.

Lagos is a beautiful town with white buildings and friendly people. We were there during a festival to commemorate the Portuguese explorer Pedro Gabral. We walked through the festival of craft stalls and baked good stands and watched what appeared to be a terrible play and a street performer dressed as a joker. We discovered later that the Portuguese president made an appearance at the festival as well. We also enjoyed the night life. Most people don't go to the bars until 11:00 or midnight. When the bars close around 2 am, people go to the dance clubs. Our first night at the hostel, we heard people come home around 7:30 in the morning. We were actually ridiculed for calling it a night at 2:30 am and met people from our hostel going out. Before calling it a night, we played darts with the British chaps we met surfing. There was also a very drunk older man who liked to dance and pinch bottoms.  We christianed him Larry. He would dance into our dart game which demonstrated a drunken lack of safety awareness. The only way to get him out of the way was to dance with him. When we left, Larry was curled up in the window, sleeping like a babe. Joe suggested that we should kiss Larry good night. I decided that Larry might have sweet dreams if I kissed him where as I would not.

Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Lagos Edition
- See the Portuguese president's motorcade
- Learn the cure for hangovers
- Catch the waves
- Watch a joker juggle flaming sticks
- Observe a Renaissance parade
- Learn that strawberry mousse has the profound ability to give Melissa the giggles
- Enjoy a scrumptious burger at one of the top burger joints in Europe
- Watch an Australian down back to back liquor bongs that included every kind of spirit on the shelf and fruit juice. Almost as a good of an idea as giving me a surf board.
- Punch more holes in the wall than the dart board
- Be questioned why I hate walls so much as to throw darts at them with such force
- Inspire a member of the Belgium Royal Security team to travel to Cinque Terre but not be quite as convincing in inspiring him to travel to West Texas (his friend wanted us to try to persuade him to travel to the worst place we knew of to see if he would go).

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