Ten hour train ride? That doesn’t sound so bad. Oh wait, that screaming child from the last train is sitting next to me? Those florescent lights overhead don’t shut off? These seats don’t RECLINE?! This is going to be a long 10 hours…
Actually, make that 11 hours. I’m not sure how it turned into a longer trip, but I barely survived. The bathroom smelled like a porta-potty at a Dave Matthews concert in July, and the man next to me smelled the same. Oh wait. That’s me. Let’s get personal here. No one really talks about the effect travelling has on a 20-something year old from South Florida who’s used to blowdryers, moisturizer, and conditioner. My hair is like straw, my skin resembles that damn volcano, and I have cankles. Yep. I said it. Cankles. Again, I’m backpacking, so that doesn’t leave a lot of room for all the lotions and potions and comforts of home. I found a bottle of Head and Shoulders in the shower at the hostel today, and I almost screamed in excitement. The 1.5 oz bottle of Johnson&Johnson’s baby shampoo is hardly cutting it. It’s been a little over a week, with five to go, and I’m thinking the extra pound in my backpack might be worth having shiny hair and soft skin again.
Anyhow, now that I’ve completely grossed you out, let me show you some pretty pictures of Lisbon. I’ll just post these and run…the hostel is hosting a HUGE three course dinner in a couple hours (for only 8 euro!) and I need a nap. In a bed.
