Lisbon, Portugal 5/16/08

I slept very little throughout the long, and painful trainride to Lisbon. When I finally arrived, I stopped to figure out where I was going. there wasn't an information booth that I could see, or anything where I could get a map, so I wandered around aimlessly just looking to see what was here that I could use to figure out where to go next. An old man approached me, offering me a room for 20 euro a night and told me he'd drive me to his place. He handed me a printed card with a small map of the city on the back. The old man and the place where he wanted me to stay was a little scetchier than what I figured it was worth, but I kept the card with the map on the back. Now that I had a map, I could figure out where I was in relation to the city center. I decided that if I journeyed into city center, I was sure I could find a hostel somewhere to stay in. I with my knowlege of where I was in relation to where I wanted to go, I pulled out my compass and found a heading.

I walked on through old Portugese streets, and curving allyways. Lisbon is built on rolling hills, similar to San Francisco, so it makes walking even short distances a very tiring ordeal. I was looking for something labeled "Hostel" or "bed and breakfast", or anything similar, but the more I walked, the more I decided that wasn't going to happen. I caved in and finally pulled up Hostelworld.com on my phone. I found a hostel which I figured (by the discription) must be very near to where I was. I wasn't sure where the street was that I was heading to, it wasn't on my map, but at least I had an address now to go off of. I asked several people on the street if they knew where the place was that I was looking for, and they pointed me all over the place. I finally found it about an hour later, only about 2 blocks from where I'd gotten lost. The hostel was called "Smile", and it seemed like a nice place to stay for a coule days in Lisbon. The "Free internet Access" on the discription caught my eye in particular.

I rang the door bell on the huge old wooden doors, and the front desk buzzed me in. I climbed up 3 more flights of stairs looking for the reception, and when I found it, the owner was there waiting for me. She was an intreaging woman, with very short brown hair and very defining makeup. She stood at the top of the stairs with striking posture, like a dancer or a governess, gazing down at me with a plastered on smile. The smile was what stood out most to me. It was slightly off, feigning sincerity, or sincere but overexaggerated; sort of the way an alien from outerspace might mimic a smile. She beconed me to come in, and checked me in to the hostel with the same over the top excitement you might expect from a primadonna. Above her at the front desk was a big blue sign with the word "Smile" in large letters. Directly underneath was a smiley face like one that a child would fingerpaint, and below that, the woman looked up with the exact same smile to match the one on the wall. She was very nice, though; I couldn't complain about the service. I arrived at a little after 10, and breakfast was laid out in the dinning area. Technically, you're not supposed to have breakfast in a hostel unless you've stayed there that night, but she invited me to sit down and help myself to anything on the table, even though I hadn't been there the night before. However, I still walk on edge with this woman lurking in the shadows. She's always around, and will suddenly show up right behind you. She won't allow anyone to lift a finger. I tried to wash my dishes in the sink after I'd used them at breakfast, and she came out of nowhere behind me yelling at me to put them down. It was as if I'd taken her child from her. She grabbed the dishes from me, and her voice came back to a cooing tone. She smiled again that smile which I'm sure she though was comforting, and faked a laugh under her breath. "No," she said "I'll do that, thank you." I agreed, and backed away slowely. She also changes the sheets like 3 times a day, and tucks the covers in so tightly that I have to struggle them free before entering them. She keeps the hostel very neat and tidy, like you'd imagine a 5 star hotel, but not a 20 euro hostel. It's nice, but it worries me to touch anything, that I might dirty it and then God knows what would happen. This "smile" hostel does have a bit of a Deliverance vibe to it. I wouldn't be suprised if maybe some of these guests "checked out" sometime before they meant to. For the time being however, my stay here has been wonderful. If I don't end up in tiny pieces in the freezer by the end of my stay, then I'd say this is quite a steal.

I took a nap right after breakfast before going out exploring, because I was exhausted from my 11 hour trainride, and now that I had a nice comfortable bed to sleep in, I made good use of it. Really the rest of the day was marked by periods of walking around the city, and then back to the hostel for little naps before going out again. There wasn't a lot in particular that I really wanted to see in Lisbon, just the fact of going to Portugal. I did do some exploring, and a whole lot of walking. I saw some of the major sights, and walked through the major markets and streets. However the city of Lisbon is probably not the most exciting of cities in Portugal, and I don't have time to get down anywhere else. The lounge of this hostel is a lot of fun to just hang out in though, and is sort of my favorite place here. It's inside a really old Portugese building where some of the ancient walls still show through. It has satallite TV (with some American channels), a PS2 video game console, and refrigerator full of food.

I was trying to work the TV, just changing the channel, and I couldn't figure out what I was doing. I was drowning in remote controls, and pressing every button only to become more and more lost in TV controls. I looked around to see two guys my age playing a football (soccer) game on the PS2. "Do any of you have any idea what I did?" I asked them, and then laughed and just told me to leave it. I sat over on the couch and watched their football match unfold. They had no idea what they were doing either. The game was designed so intricately, that there were a million different buttons to do a million different actions, and they sat there trying to make sense of it all. When we finally got some grasp of what button controls what, we all played a tournament against eachother, and got talking. Peter was from the eastern coast of Canada, and Kyle was from just outside of Boston. the two of them had been traveling around Europe and came in on the same train that I had from Madrid, but just the next car over. I remembered I had seen them during one occasion when I got up to find the bathroom, and wandered into their car. We got talking about things to see here in Lisbon, and they said the Castle was definately something worth stopping at. After our intense match, I told them I was going to go out and find the Castle, but we all planned to head out and find a bar or club later.

It wasn't hard to find the Castle. It's at the very top of the tallest hill, and all you have to do it just keep walking up. However, it is kind of a climb to the top, but I was used to walking up hills by this point in my journey. The Castle was certainly something to go see, as they said. It was beautiful, and still captured the essence of a medieval castle. I hadn't seen a really good Castle since Salzburg. From the towers and walls, you could catch an absolutely breathtaking view of the city. I especially loved the courtyards, where you could walk around the gardens and sit down on old medieval benches and ruins while looking out onto the city below.

Later that night I met up with Kyle and Peter, and we went out looking for some sort of nightife in the city. We'd been told that Lisbon's night life was actually quite good, and so we were aching to get out and find a good club or bar to hang out in. The woman who runs the hostel appeared behind us, and pointed out on the map, the area where all the clubs might be. We all agreed that the way that woman can just show up and disappear was the creepiest thing ever, and were wary of her directions, fearing it might be a way to lure us to our untimely demise. However, as we walked we found that her directions weren't plots to destroy us, just bad directions. We walked forever and found nothing but small cafeterias and clusteres of high school kids. We figured maybe she just decided that we were all kids, and pointed us to where the kids hang out, disregarding the fact that we were at least 5 years older than anyone here. In a group huddle, we finally motioned to ditch the crazy woman's directions and go our own route to finding some kind of nightlife among people our own age. As we walked, we talked about our travels and where our favorite places had been. We shared clubbing stories, although Kyle did most of the talking in that area. Peter and I had a story or two by now, but nothing held a candle to Kyle's clubbing escapades. Kyle was someone most guys my age crave to be like. He was well spoken, attractive and could walk into a room, seek out the prettiest girl, and seduce her from across the hall. He talked of writing a book on how to do things with a woman in public and not get caught. Peter had been traveling with Kyle for some time now, and the two of them told me some stories, and all I could do was shake my head and say "wow."

We walked on, through dark and dirty backstreets. I was the self appointed navigator of the group, being the only one with a map, and periodically pulling out my compass to check if we were headed in the right direction. I asked Kyle a lot of questions regarding his thoughts on having so much casual sex, and as respectfully as I could, how his morals fit into the whole thing. He told me that he views women very highly. He'd grown up with a very strong female influence, and just really enjoys their company. he explained that he keeps his moral fiber by being entirely upfront and honest with a woman as soon as he meets her. "I don't want a relationship, just a good time" he'd say to each woman before anything happens. Most of the time, he said, they're completely ok with that, and if their not then then nothing happens and he moves on. "I also," he explained "would never pay for sex, and I won't even bother with club rats and huge sluts because that's just absolutely meaningless." He looked at me with direction, and I couldn't see his sincerity when he talked about morals. Admitantly, I've always felt a little threatened by men who sleep with women, and then move on like it's nothing. The reason not so much being that I've felt morally apposed to it, but that I wished my own morals would grant me that privilage. I fall attached to women easily, and I feel a strong obligation to follow anything physical with loyalty and love. I too, very much enjoy a woman's company, and I'm empowered when I sense a woman's interest. However the thought of anything longterm scares me, because I'm paranoid in my inability to maintain any kind of lasting relationship. I've tried the longterm route, and failed miserably several times. I can't hold a woman's interest, or I find the wrong woman, or I try too hard to make things work. Whatever the reason, my relationships fall apart as soon as the "honeymoon period" is over. I desperately want the ability to disconnect my heart from the action. I want to be able to enjoy a woman, and never think of her again. I've tried and failed at that several times as well, because I just can't allow myself to detatch. Along with that are the values I've grown up with which limit me from indulging where indulgence can be necissary to detach ones self from the weight of it. If I start something, I know I can't fully finish it, or I compromise something I feel is keeping me connected with God and family. I often feel trapped in that middle ground where I can't allow myself to take a full step in either direction, for fear of compromising my image and regretting it later, and fear of holding myself back from something amazing for what may be no reason at all. Beacuse of this, I suppose those who indulge and keep themselves to indulge again, make me feel like less of a man. I often hide that behind a front of chivalry, as if I don't like what they do because it's disrespectful to women. I do have a strong sense of chivalry, but that's probably not why, or all the reason why that issue bothers me. I have nothing to say when the woman consents willingly. However, these feelings of anger and betrayal are still previllant.

I mentioned a tiny bit of that to Kyle, and he expressed his strong respect for those who abstain. He said that having casual sex doesn't make you any more of a man, it's keeping some kind of morality and respect whether you're having sex or not. He told me, he's a believer in free love. If he could have been born in the 60s he would have been. What's valuable to him is that respect and honor is given in any circumstance where "free love" exists. If what is valuable to me is maintaining a promise to keep myself pure, then that's just as respectable.

We finally settled in an Irish Pub which was the best, most friendly bar we could find and each bought a round of beers. We talked some more about our particular stories and things which will not be told here. One thing to remember is that what is said with a pint of beer in their hand is not to be repeated outside the bar. When we finally decided we didn't want to make the woman who runs the hostel get up too late to open the door for us, we headed back. We said goodnight, and I slept soundly.