Why is the silent Asian in my bed?

Language barriers, man.
They let the super-quiet Asian sharing a hostel room with you just choose the same bed that you chose and snuggle himself all up in there.
Without saying one word.

So after the giant misadventure of almost missing our flight to Lisbon (lemme holla at that good karma we were getting after a dastardly Spaniard stole Samantha's wallet), we landed in Portugal.
And that was when we asked each other, "Do we have any plans here? Or even know anything about Lisbon?"
Lisbon was the epitome of a pleasant surprise.
And fantastically lazy.

When Hollywood shows you hostels, they are always these funky little buildings with cool characters and an eclectic atmosphere.
Hollywood may have been filming the Goodnight Hostel the entire time, because that's exactly how it was.
And other than the silent Asian in my bed, we made friends, we felt comfortable, and the showers had amazing water pressure!
AND they sponsor free walking tours of the city.
And pub crawls.
Good pub crawls.

The first night we got there was my first ever pub crawl.
Our third night there was my second ever pub crawl.
A flat rate, three bars and one club, and then attempting to get ourselves home in the winding streets of Lisbon.
Hazy memories of dancing, peeing in the streets, friend making, picture taking, and flirting for drinks ensued.
The mornings after our crawls, were rough.
Our last day there, I was on the struggle bus until three in the afternoon.
I ordered a sandwich that was bread, cucumber, and tomato.
And I almost reached out to touch a stranger's baby, but luckily my brain caught up with my muscle function before a woman had to scream at me in Portuguese.

In between our struggle bus mornings, and pub crawl evenings, we wandered the streets of Lisbon.
The side streets of Alfama are as small as they come and the view as you climb up the giant mountain-hill is postcard-worthy.
The hole-in-the-wall restaurants are scrumdiddlyumptious and the local, famous gelato restaurant has delicious men scooping your gelato.
And even without actually making it to the beach, the water is beautiful.
And can we take a minute to discuss the European lifestyle?
THEY DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE 20 YEARS OLD AND HAVE ONLY WORKED IN THE FOOD INDUSTRY, HAVE NEVER HAD AN INTERNSHIP, AND HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU WANT TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE.
BECAUSE YOU'RE ONLY 20.
And they eat really well, all the time.

I'd tell you the intricacies of all the things we saw....but I really couldn't tell you those.
We did one walking tour, and I vaguely remember something about a nine minute earthquake at some point and time, but then I got hungry for lunch, and stopped paying attention.

I'd go back in a heartbeat. [Ya know, like maybe after graduation...with my family...doing a bit of traveling...if we win the lottery...or a blog reader feels like sponsoring it for the sole purpose of reading the comedic adventures of the Maki family in Europe, I swear hilarity will ensue!...JUST LET ME DREAM.]


8:19am USA
2:19pm Denmark