Lagos, Portugal: vacations don't get anymore ironic

I was awoken from my super light one hour of sleep by Stacey walking in at 5:15am. This was no big deal because my alarm was scheduled to go off at 5:20. I was not a happy camper. And the street was STILL noisey. Remember when I liked Feria? Yeah, not anymore. I asked Stacey about her night--the movies were closed, so they just went to Madigan´s for awhile, then TexMex for awhile, then back to the apt. Ryan was out napping in the hall. Stacey and I finished packing and getting ready and the three of us were off. We walked down calle Luján together...people were still out and about as if it was midnight! It was already 6:30am. Crazy! We parted ways at Asunción which was crowded with people, mostly in line at the waffle shop (which was surprisingly open). There were people everywhere and it was a pain to walk down the street. I accidentally knocked over a parked motorcycle because of it. I just kept walking. No pasa nada. I was gross and sweaty because although it wasn´t too warm out, it was very, very humid and I was wearing a big-ass sweatshirt to shield my money belt and the mace I was carrying. I figured that I´d just walk to Plaza de Cuba and grab a cab to the bus station. Surprise. There was a HUUUUUUUGE line for cabs. I´m talking huge. This was useless. Ugh, I may as well just walk. Walking at this time of night/morning to Plaza de Armas with drunk people everywhere made me nervous, plus I was dripping with sweat. I got a little bit of a ways down Paseo de Colón when I saw a taxi which I proceeded to flag down. It was a woman driver! I´ve never had a woman taxi driver. She was about 40 and super friendly and talkative. She talked to me really quickly and enthusiastically and I had a hard time understanding her most of the time. She told me that I was the first sober person that she had picked up and she was very pleased about it. I got to the station a little before 7. Soon Courtney and Jessica showed up. I grabbed some much-needed water from the bar at the station, and then Katie and Melissa showed up. At about 7:20 we headed downstairs and boarded our bus to Lagos, Portugal. We all passed out right away. I woke up, coincidentally, right as we got on the bridge that runs from Spain to Portugal, so I got to see the big Portugal sign. That was pretty neato. I was so happy to be back in Portugal, I freaking love that country. I then fell back asleep. The bus ride ended up taking about 5-6 hours when we thought that it´d take only 4. We made all of these stops at which we sat for about a half an hour. One of the major stops was customs where these policemen entered our bus and looked at all of our passports. So weird; that didn´t happen when I went to Portugal last time. We got into Lagos around noon (Portugal´s an hour behind Spain) which was great. We were groggy and tired from the bus and just wanted to get to a beach ASAP. I was also hot because it was so sunny out and I was still wearing my sweatshirt. This short American guy was at the bus right when we got off yelling "Rising Cock! Who´s here for the Rising Cock?". Okay, maybe I should explain. The hostel we stayed in was called The Rising Cock. Yes, it´s punny. In Portugal the rooster is a major emblem and it´s printed everywhere and on everything, so The Rising Cock does make sense as a hostel name in Portugal. However, its sister hostel, The Camel Toe, does need some explaining. Anyways, this guy looked about our age and had a thick California accent. He gathered us as a large, attractive Italian man collected our baggage and threw it in his car. I like this hostel so far. The guy who was gathering us said that he would then walk us to our hostel. His name was Vivik, he was from California, he graduated USC last year (felt the need to comment on my Michigan Rose Bowl 2004 sweatshirt), and had gone to study Spanish for a few months in Spain, came to Lagos, fell in love, and hasn´t left in almost a month. Okay. So he warned us that he hadn´t been working at "The Cock" very long, so excuse him if he got us lost. Great. I was not in the mood for what he reassured would be "a tour of Lagos". Well, he got us lost. And kept making awkward conversation but, ya know, trying to sound cool a la the lame guys I met in Amsterdam. Yeah, this guy kind of sucked at life, and he kept making lame jokes and references that none of us responded to. We were hot and tired and just wanted to get to our hostel and go to the beach. We were not fans of the Vivik. Finally, sweating like crazy, we ran into Mario (the Italian guy) who wondered how we had gotten lost. We all looked miserable. Vivik then made some sarcastic little comment like, "Hey, it´s my first tour, guys? That´s my boss. Why didn´t you tell him how great I was?" We all gave him dirty looks. Lame-o. Mario led us the rest of the way. Then more stress errupted. We entered the hostel which was really nicely decorated, really comfortable, and full of American, Canadian, Australian, and British students running about. We went to the front desk where an about 50-something Italian woman worked. She´s Mario´s mom and everyone at the hostel calls her "Mom". That was kind of cute. The way that we had booked our rooms was one 3-person private, and one 2-person. Mom offered a suggestion that we stay in the apartment next store which was also lodging 4 other American girls who were studying in Sevilla. We said sure. So we went next store to check it out. It was really nice: 3 sets of bunk beds, 2 foam couch/love seats, a kitchen, a bathroom with shower/bath, and a bedroom with a double bed. There were two bunk beds and the double bed available. Melissa and Courtney just took the bunk beds, Katie and I took the double, then Jessica was left with nothing. Mom said that if she pulls out the love seats it would make a great bed. Jessica was not happy about this, and rightly so. She told her that she had paid for a bed, and that was not a bed. Which is true. When you pay for a hostel, you pay for a bed. It was confusion trying to communicate this because Mom´s English was not top-notch. So it turned into a really heated discussion about it. Mom told her that when she´s drunk she wouldn´t even notice. But she wasn´t getting that Jessica wasn´t complaining about comfort, she was complaining about payment. So then Mom got all flustered and said, "Okay, I switch your room" but Jessica kept saying that all she wanted was a bed. Finally it got understood and she said that she could get a bed into the apartment for her. It was tension like crazy then. Then Mom said that she would show us the other room, which confused us again. We saw the room with bunk beds in the Rising Cock itself, and it was nothing special compared to the apartment. So Jessica said that as long as she gets a bed then we´d stay in the apartment. Mom said, "Okay, I just want to make you happy. I make a nice bed for you." We hoped that she would. So we just went to the apartment all frustrated and tired and changed for the beach. Nobody was in a good mood. We got changed and ready, stopped at the convenience store next to the Rising Cock to buy munchies, and then headed to the beach. There are multiple beaches in Lagos, many of which are smaller, but we couldn´t figure out how to get to those, so we ended up walking toward the marina which is near the bus station and the "big beach". Lagos is pretty nice, ya know, your typical beach town. There´s nothing too defining about the town itself. It´s very quaint with lots of shops, snack bars, restaurants, ya know. It ended up being a pretty long, annoying, hot walk to the beach, but we kept telling ourselves that it was worth it. We passed a marina, train station, some random industrial area, and finally the beach. The water was beautiful. The beach looked fantastic, although not how we expected. It was your normal, everyday beach. Worked for us. We put our stuff down and laid out, happy to be lying down in the sun on a Portuguese beach. After about ten minutes we realized that we had forgotten to pick up our return tickets to Sevilla for Monday morning. We figured that it was no big deal because it's very easy to obtain bus tickets, so we planned to pick them up on the way back to the hostel later. For now, we just wanted to enjoy the sun. We all fell asleep in the sun at some point (don't worry, we were very, very serious about wearing sunblock) and ended up out there for about 4 hours. At some point Jessica and Melissa got up to go to the cafe to use the bathroom. When they returned they came bearing the news that caused the most stress to errupt. They told us that they had run into two girls they knew from Sevilla (Americans on the same program as Katie and Melissa's roommates) who told them that there were no more buses available for Monday morning. This was bad news for Katie and Jessica because their budget was super tight and they couldn't afford another day in Lagos, and this was extra, extra bad news for me. You see, Robby (one of my best friends at Michigan) was scheduled to come to Spain for a school field trip, and he decided to come up 2 days early to visit me in Sevilla. He would be in Monday evening around dinner time, which meant that I had to be leave Monday morning. No question. This was bad and I started freaking out. Not only did I want to see Robby, but it would be for such a short period of time that I needed all the time that I could with him, AND he forked over extra cash to see me, AND he's taking a semester off next year so I won't see him again until January '07. Therefore, I had to get home. We all figured that perhaps there was a slip in communication and we'd check it out on the way back. Stressed, I couldn't lay out anymore, so I tried to ease my anxiety by doing some reading for school. After about an hour we headed out and went straight for the bus station. When we got there the dude told us that none, not one bus would be running out of Lagos on Monday. So I asked about Sunday and he said no, as well. That Monday was the European Labor Day, and I would not have thought that public transportation would shut down. He said that I could go out Tuesday morning, though. Unacceptable. I was very angry that the woman back in Spain when I bought my ticket did not say anything about that. I didn't know what to do. We thought that maybe we could find someone who had rented a car or something. All I knew was that I needed to get to an internet cafe or something and contact Robby. We walked back frantically, Melissa and Courtney trailing behind because they didn't mind staying another night. We tried looking for an internet cafe, found a sign for one, but couldn't figure out where it was pointing or anything. So we figured that we should go back to the hostel before we got lost in hopes that there'd be internet there. They did have internet, but the 2 computers were occupied. Flustered I ran into Mom and told her about my situation. She told me that buses would for sure be runningn out of Faro, a more major city in Portugal, on Monday and that I could take the train from Lagos to Faro. So that meant that I needed to walk all the way back to the bus station, hope that this was so, and then walk to the train station, and then back. All of this was all the way near the beach we were just at. What a fucking day. Let me digress and say that when we were on the bus to Lagos that morning I had mentioned how excited I was for this vacation because every trip in the past has been all about being on our feet and packing in as much sightseeing as possible in a day. This would be the first trip that would be completely stress-free in which I could just lay out, party, and not have a care in the world. This was supposed to be my stress-free "Spring Break" before finals started in May and I'd have to buckle down. Lo and behold, my oxymoronic day in Lagos. We quickly changed out of our bathing suits and rushed to the bus station hoping that it wouldn't be closed (it was about 6:30). We got there and the same guy was there. Katie had given him attitude the last time we talked to him, so it was a bit embarrassing. We asked if there were buses running from Faro to Sevilla on Monday and he said yes, that there was one at 2:30pm. Before purchasing tickets, we wanted to make sure that there'd be a train running from Lagos to Faro on Monday morning, so we dashed off to the train station. The area around the train station was super sketchy and we encountered some creepy looking people who didn't look very trustworthy. Oy. We also could not find the entrance to the station due to construction. What the hell, Lagos? Can't anything run smoothly? All I want is a vacation! Is that so much to ask? I was about ready to cry. We finally found it after asking. We asked the guy at the ticket counter about trains, and he said that they would in fact be running to Faro on Monday at 6am, 7am, 8am, and 1pm. I was ready to buy the 6euro ticket, but he said no, just do it Monday morning. That made me a bit apprehensive, but okay. So then we dashed back to the bus station (this was getting ridiculous) to buy bus tickets from Faro to Sevilla. Another awkward encounter with the man behind the counter. Ohhhh Katie. He had to make a bunch of calls and do some computer stuff which took awhile since it was a different bus company, and we forked over and extra 16 euro, and got our bus tickets. Well, Katie couldn't get hers because she had forgotten her passport. So, she ran back to the hostel to get it and then run back...which meant another awkward encounter for her with that dude. It was craziness. Jessica and I got our tickets and were relieved. Although still shaken up, and a bit stressed hoping that our travels on Monday would run smoothly. We ran into Katie as we were walking back. I still had to use the internet, though, to tell Robby that I'd have to meet him at his hostel later Monday evening because if my bus were to leave at 2:30 and it takes about 4 hours, it would take some time before I could meet him. Luckily I got to a computer and sent the email. He was also online, but I was in a rush because we were planning on cooking pasta for dinner in the hostel in order to save money (we were all on a big-ass Lagos budget) and people in Lagos go out earlier than in Sevilla, so we had to start cooking. And we also hadn't showered nor changed, so it had to be a fast dining/getting ready experience. So I told him frantically to check his email. He told me that he hadn't gotten it yet, but I had to go and I just hoped for the best. Oy vey. Then Jessica approached me to tell me that she had found out that the infamous Mtv booze cruise was sold out for Sunday. Let me explain: Mtv Europe was in Lagos staying in the Rising Cock because they're pitching a reality show about traveling Europe and hostels or something. The Rising Cock frequently has booze cruises, but the one on Sunday would have Mtv on it filming. We had been planning to go on it and looking forward to it, but hadn't bought tickets yet. Jessica said that they told her that we could try going to a bar cald Joe's Garage and ask for Phil and perhaps he could pull some strings for us. Oh man, it doesn't end. So now we were in a rush again to get the tickets before it was too late. So we frantically got directions from a dude at the Rising Cock who just happened to be drunk (surprise surprise) and we dashed out the door again on a mad search. The things we do, I tell ya. We got lost, asked someone who had no idea. Walked some more, asked someone else, got directions, and still managed to not find it. Holy crap. What a freaking day. Finally we asked one more person who gave us clearer directions and we found it...20 minutes later. We banged on the door (it was closed) hoping someone would answer. Finally somebody did and we entered. We asked for Phil, told him about our situation. He said that there was nothing he could do, but we could try to show up around noon at Joe's on Sunday and hope that there were no-show's and we could take their tickets. Okay. So much for that. Now that that was done we headed back to the hostel. We were done. No more. We refused to let anything else stress us out. Time to sit back and relax. The stress was pretty much over, though. The torture had ended. How had my vacation turned into a bundle of stress and anxiety? I seriously have not been that stressed out since maybe first semester (a.k.a. the evil semester). What a motherfucking ironic vacation, Lagos. I just needed to get through that day so that I could have a kick-ass remainder of my vacation. Needless to say, I was ready for the shitshow to begin.