Well. I was getting a
little too comfortable in Albania. Time
to upend my life again.
I ended up staying in the last place for over two months because
I didn’t feel like moving. My initial
plan was to the head to the coast for a few weeks, either Saranda or Durres but
I never got there. I was good in Tirana, so
I stayed. Even once the hot water heater died a week before my departure, I was still comfortable. Stinky by the end of my stay from trying to
take cold showers, but comfortable.
I did try to get the heater fixed as soon as it broke, but
no go. August is vacation month for many
countries in Europe, including Albania. The
host was very responsive so I believe him when he said he couldn’t find anyone to fix
it.
For that reason alone, I was ready to return to Portugal on the ticket I’d bought months earlier. I
just wanted a hot shower and looked forward to getting one once I made it to
Lisbon.
The travel day ended up being more trying than I would have
liked. After a nice breakfast at one of
my favorite restaurants, I grabbed a cab and bid farewell to Tirana. Checking in at the airport was fine enough, but the flight
was late for some reason. No worries for
me though as I had a 3-hour layover in Germany.
I took a seat at a café to wait for my gate to be called when I felt something land on my arm. I
swatted it away and realized it was a bee.
I was inside the airport! With hundreds of other people! I didn’t even have any food and that bee came
looking for me!
And, yeah, it came back around and stung me on the back of
my right ankle.
Are you SH!TTING me?
A bee stung me (for the very first time in my life) on my first
day in the city (Welcome to Tirana!) and now, just as I’m leaving, another bee gets
me (Thanks for staying!).
What the HELL!?!
Seriously, why do I keep attracting the bugs? Is there some way I can stop doing that? I don’t actually enjoy being swollen and
itchy. Add that pain to being underhydrated, overstimulated, and overtired on my
travel day and … yeah. A lot of bad
things overdone.
Prices in Portugal are insane everywhere right now. I looked at my usual haunts as well as other
places like Sintra, Aveiro, Ericeira, and Coimbra with no luck. Funchal is still overpriced in general while
the Algarve is on summer pricing for another month or so. Airbnbs in Lisbon are priced cheaper compared
to Portimão -- and Lisbon is not cheap. So,
to Porto I go.
I love Portugal. That
is not a surprise to anyone familiar with this blog. But Tap Portugal, the national airline, may be
my new enemy.
While I love their beautiful safety video on their long-haul
flights, checking in at Lisbon Airport was a nightmare. The line was insanely long just to get to the
automated check-in. Then when I tried to
check my bag, it was rejected TWICE for being too heavy (this hasn’t been an
issue for a while now). I had to keep pulling stuff out all while worrying about
catching my flight.
I finally appeased the weight machine and sprinted for security. The line wasn’t too bad but getting both of
my repacked bags stopped as well as myself(?) just further stressed me out. There
was nothing on me and after asking about my foot massager (a non-powered, spikey
plastic object – how was that a weapon?), I was dismissed without a word while
the guy switched shifts.
Thanks. That was an essential waste of my time.
Not enough time for me to fume in impotent rage, though, as I
sprinted for the gate. The flight was already
boarding, but at least I didn’t miss it.
All that rushing in the morning just led to a long wait once I arrived at Porto
Airport. My new home wasn’t cleaned yet and
the host texted to tell me that I couldn’t check in until after 2:30. I had plenty
of time to get some cash, a new sim card, eat, and relax. To a point.
I’d found a nice place to sit outside beside a pool full of
ducks. I’m sitting there, enjoying the
sunny day when some deranged man stopped in front of me and started ranting in
French. I told him I didn’t speak Portuguese,
hoping he’d be confused enough to leave, but it didn’t work. I tried to ignore
him as much as possible until eventually he walked off to rant at someone else.
Each interaction with men reminds me that a majority of them are not well.
I really wish they would keep their unwellness away from me.
Soon after that, I grabbed a cab and got to the apartment. The host met me at the door and showed me
around.
The reason I chose the place was because it was the cheapest
I could find. There are some reasons for
that price. The place has the distinct smell of mold (I knew it was a bad sign
when there was a candle burning on the island).
These stairs are of the devil.
This bed, I would quickly find out that first night, is a medieval
torture device.
And I quickly decided to spend the rest of my stay sleeping on the only-slightly-less-uncomfortable couch.
As for Porto … it was never my favorite city in
Portugal. As I walked (and walked and
walked) to the Metro on the way to the Douro that first day after getting settled
in, I had a thought.
Uh oh. I think Tirana spoiled me. It was 20 degrees warmer there (mid 80’s as opposed to high 60’s), YouTube didn’t have commercials (that was sooooo nice), and I’d gotten very accustomed to having everything being 5 minutes away from my apartment. Porto, while still convenient, makes you work a bit harder than Tirana. And it costs more.
Why, by all that is green and holy, is PORTUGAL making me
miss Albania?
What world am I living in?
