I am writing this at 33,000 over Brest (the French town, not the crazy funbags of love, though it feels like I’m 33,000 feet away from breasts, but that’s another story). Of course, I’m not anymore, just this is what my notebook says. My notebook also doesn’t have access to that visited countries application, which an updated version appears below.



Truth be told, I shouldn’t have had a good holiday. Thursday was spent in various convoluted body positions, and not in a good way. I had eaten something (that’s my excuse, honest guv) that made my stomach hurt, and I lost €120 which, I fear, may have been stolen in the hostel. I also truly fucked up the best chance of getting laid until mid September. A chance in terms that the hostel was full of women from countries who go all gooey when they hear the British accent (the ladies, not the country itself).

Yes. It shouldn’t have been a good holiday.

But it was.

The only reason I’m miserable now is that the first three days away from the UK have been bloody fantastic. The food is absolutely gorgeous, the beer was dirt cheap and drinkable (the lowest prcie for a decent ABV 4.5% was 20p a bottle) and just sitting up with people from all parts of the world, all walks of life, and Barrow-in-Furness was fabulously interesting. They all made this 23 year old look boring.

No wonder I didn’t do the squelchy with any of them. Probably bored them to death talking about International Languages #1 (football) , #2 (beer) and #3 (how Britiain is rubbish at #1 and expensive for #2).

But the best thing was the sheer culture change experienced when arriving. At first it was scary, but when I learnt to give the Portugese a bit of time, then you find them to be very appreciative of you and your culture, and wide eyed and enjoyable, relaxed bunch of people. I recieved a few drinks from them too!

Anyway, a proper 2 or 3 posts with loads of pictures will be posted over the next few days, however this entry is just to say I’m alive, well, happy (in esscence, back to normality on Monday, boo!), and not just bitten, but been well and truly orally violated by the travel bug.

So, to finish off this quick entry, a message to the new Portugese readers (what? Did you really expect me to go on holiday and not promote this blog?), which is in the form of a question that needs answering. Regarding your advertising. Bear in mind these were the first adverts I saw off the plane, and they struck me as being similar to a dictatorship, like in Iraq where there were pictures of Saddam looking strong everywhere. These billboards where everywhere.


Who are these people, and why do they deserve 95% of the billboards in Lisbon?

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