Lisbon

After actually managing to catch the plane from Barcelona we arrived in Lisbon.

We were staying at Rossio Hostel run by Marco, a friend of Sam's brother who we haven't seen in three years.

We managed to make it from the airport to the approximate area where the hostel is. We grabbed a map and asked the guys behind to counter to show us where to go "down near the river" so off we went.

Looking at the map it didn't make sense that we should be going towards the river. We headed back where we came from and thought we had found the right street after walking up a huge hill. Again it looked like we were in the wrong place.
So we asked the police and they told us to go back where we had come from. It took us two hours to realise that we had been dropped of 100m from the hostel.

We were really kicking goals that day.

Marco was working that night so we caught up with him then. It was great to see him. He was hosting a tapas night and was cooking chorizo and got Sam to help him. Nervous about Sam cooking alcohol soaked sausage with an open flame. I watched from afar.

The hostel was beautiful, great rooms and comfy beds. Marco's mum cooks everyone breakfast the next morning (the pancakes are sensational!), man is she a good cook.

The next day we wanted to suss out Lisbon so we walked down to the river and checked out the monuments and old buildings.

That night the hostel was booked out so we stayed at Marco's place.
He had invited us to go to a friend's party. A Brazilian girl he knew had just graduated and it was her birthday so it was time to celebrate.

We got a taxi to where Marco thought it was, he said he had been there a few times, but each time he had been very drunk so he wasn't really sure.

That really filled us with confidence.

He asked some people nearby if we were in the right place. One older guy had a long and animated conversation with Sam and I. In Portuguese. He seemed to speak more Portuguese the more we told him we couldn't understand him.

Turns out we were in the right place. We headed up to the party and met everyone. I'm struggling with the two kisses each time you meet someone.

My confusion has led to me accidentally head butting some of the people I've met.. I'm sure they understand. But nobody likes a headbutt.

The party was fun but it was also confusing. Only because most of the talking was in Portugese. Everyone was really lovely.

One guy, a painter named Migel Angelo (yes, really!) was convinced that I was Portugese and refused to speak to me in English.

The party was heaps of fun but the small apartment full o people smoking hit me around three and I went back to Marco's whilst the boys stayed and enjoyed what was left of the night.

Partied till the sun came up..

With the boys sleeping off the night before I had the day to myself to eat Portugese custard tarts and go shopping without the worry of a chap sitting out the front waiting for me.

I went back to Marco's that afternoon and found him cooking eggs and going through the photos of the night before.

Seems they'd had a great night but unfortunately Sam had lost his license that we'd fought so hard to get back in Santorini.

After a night of recovery we headed to Peniche the next day to see Super Tubes, the portugese wave that is on the pro tour.

The tubes were not super, they were not tubes at all. I knew how much Sammy was looking forward surfing.

flat as a tack..

We decided to come back again the next day in the hope that the was some kind of wave that Sam could surf.

The next day there were waves, enough to surf at least. I really tried to take as many photos as I could of Sam in the water but they all look the same, I got Sam at the start and then I got some great shots of some other guy.

I decided to put the camera down and go back to my book.

We took Marco out for dinner to thank him for the wonderful time he'd shown us. He picked the place, from the outside it looked like not much, but the inside was beautiful, ballrooms and murals on the walls - it even had a chandelier. This place was the real deal.

The food was fantastic. Probably the best I'd had whilst I was in Lisbon, washed down with green wine. Perfect.

We went for a walk to see Lisbon by night. It was beautiful, I really really didn't want to leave this time.

We said goodbye to Marco and thanked him for his hospitality and got ready to head to Madrid.

Rome

I really wish I knew more Italian, I know bits and pieces but no where near as much as I'd like to.

It's meant that all conversations in Rome resulted in us speaking broken English with an Italian accent in the hope that they understand us better than regular English, when really the end result is sounding like the count from sesame street and know one knows what you are on about.

After we got to Rome from the airport we were chatting to figure out which direction to head in to get the hotel, when a guy (who we thought was American) shouted "you guys are Aussie right? Can I buy you guys a drink?"
Turns out he was from Adelaide and he had that weird accent that all South Australians have.. And he was smashed.
After we finished our first drink we went to leave he begged us to stay, He was waiting for his train and didn't want to drink alone. We stayed for one more drink but that was about it, his South Australian accent was getting thicker and thicker with every sip and we could hardly understand him.

Our hotel had a rooftop area overlooking the city. We were that excited to be in Rome, so after dinner we bought a bottle of red and headed to the roof to plan our next day.

I wanted to see the Sistine Chapel so we headed to the Vatican to get a look, and then we saw the line.

Technically we had seen the Vatican so we decided to skip waiting in line for hours and go to the colosseum.

There was another line at the colosseum but it was no where near as long, which was good news given it had cracked 35 degrees.

We were fortunate enough to be standing next to a group of Americans who were loudly being loud and we spent almost an hour listening to their waffle.

The colosseum was, well colossal. It was huge and all the stories about what went on we're fairly intense.. Russell Crowe will give you the gist.

But my god was it hot! All the stone and loud American banter meant that we quickly saw everything and went to get some shade and some lunch.

Grandma told me I had to get some leather boots in Italy. Challenge accepted.
We wandered around the main shopping strips near the Spanish Steps and I didn't find anything I liked.

Disappointed And bootless, we had dinner near the Trevi Fountain. Well what we thought was the Trevi Fountain until we realised that it's a bit bigger and more popular.

That's not a fountain..

THIS is a fountain



After finding the right fountain (these people have fountains everywhere!) I did the typical tourist thing and threw a coin in so I return to Rome, I'm hoping when I come back it's not so hot. Hopefully the fountain will hook me up.

The next day we headed to Trastevere to hunt boots because it's meant to be THE happening place, and well let's face it.. We're happening kind of people.

We took the train and then started walking, in the wrong direction. For an hour.
We were no longer on the map we had and google couldn't even save us.
I won't lie, walking in the heat with no idea where we were and taxis not pulling over wasn't the best time.

We finally got a taxi to pull over and got dropped off in the right spot.

Trastevere was magical, after a tense journey there it was clear that wine, pizza and pasta were the key to happiness.

And then we explored the back streets, it was the cutest place.

I found a shop called Carlo Cecchini, I knew I was I the right place to find my boots, it smelt of leather. Not in a weird way, in a exciting boot challenge kind of way.

I picked out a pair and declared the challenge a success.

They wrapped the boots and gave me a ridiculously large bag to carry. I loved it!

We then had to head out to a new hotel just outside of Rome where the bus was picking us up the next day.

Getting public transport with a suitcase and the massive bag o boots was not fun. Repacking was happening, as a matter of priority.

The place we stayed was a camping ground that had a lot of youthful types drinking cocktails from buckets.. When in Rome..

Let's just say that getting up the next day and the bus ride to follow wasn't a great experience.