This morning Colette insisted on driving me to the Gare Routiere so I could take the bus to the airport, even though it was 4 in the morning. She packed me sandwhiches and fruit and a coca light, all of which Iºm pretty sure I canºt take on the plane. The Marseille airport was small and simple, though, and even though they had signs up about not taking shampoos or non see-through liquids on the plane, they didnºt seem to mind (which is good because I brought everything in a carry on…Dad you would be proud because everything I brought for the week fit into a really small shoulder bag. I packed so light that the guy at the hostel couldnºt believe I was staying for so long with only that º
‘little purse’ and insisted on helping me with my ‘other luggage’ which doesn’t exist).
I took RyanAir which is legendary for problems (being late, canceling flights without notice, etc.), but because I am by myself and I am ready for adventure, I donºt mind such things. And the flight was easy, I had the row to myself, and we arrived in Porto twenty minutes early. However, right before we were about to land, when I could see the designs on the sides of semitrucks and such, the plane suddenly pulled back up again. That couldnºt have been safe. It sure didnºt feel like it. Apparently there was still a plane on the runway and so we couldnºt land then…
At the airport, I had to get metro tickets to the train station so I could get down to Lagos on the southern coast. There were some people who asked me in French to help them with the machine to get their tickets, too. So I helped them and we rode the metro together. They were three and they were in their 60s I think (though Iºm not so hot at telling age, am I?) They were from Luxembourg and visiting their vacation home in Portugal. I told them it was my school break in France and they said “So youºre not French, then?” which gave me a burst of confidence in my language skills.
After spending a month in France, though, where whenever I need something I have to ask for it in French, I found myself doing that in Portugal where no one speaks French but EVERYONE speaks English, so I had to learn to cut that out quickly. I had bought a Portugese phrase book right away, but the language is impossible. Imagine German-sounding Spanish. So since I cut out my French-habit, Iºve been trying in Portugese, but everyone can speak English so I usually revert to that after struggling.
I rode the train down the western coast all the way down to Lagos because there were no trains from Marseille to any closer airport in Portugal this weekend. But I didnºt mind because I love riding the train. Even though I canºt sit through a movie for more than 90 minutes, I can sit looking out the window lost in thoughts for hours. There was beautiful scenery of mountains and the ocean and orange tree farms. And towards the end, the windows were open on the train and the air felt so good and warm.
At my hostel in Lagos, I have a room to myself with a window that I sit at and write postcards or write in my journal and I can hear the waves. The beach is just a block away and Iºm also right in the town center. Itºs so great. I explored a little around the town tonight, but I canºt wait to see everything in the day tomorrow.
