The train ride through the Portugal countryside was stunning--a lot of it was just inland from the western Atlantic coast, and there were stretches of sand dunes with a specific type of tree growing in them that reminded me of the Oregon coast. Ashley was still getting over her food poisoning, and we were all still cranky from a crappy couple of nights in Lisbon. I don't know if I have ever been happier to walk into a hostel than I was when we walked into our digs in Faro. The hostel was really more of a bed and breakfast than a hostel--just a home converted into 7 or so guest rooms, 4 bathrooms, and a kitchen. We stayed in Faro for three days and four nights. Not much to report from here--we spent a few sleepy days there, catching up on lost sleep from Lisbon, being clean, sleeping on the beach, and swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. My trip to Portugal marked the first time I have seen the Atlantic, which is huge and powerful and amazing, and so different from the Pacific. It's hard to explain the difference, because obviously both of them are powerful, but the Pacific Ocean is just so pacific. Yeah, I'm really articulate. It's weird that I'll be living right next to that ocean next fall.
Highlights from Faro include: Kili and Ashley (not me...) eating at McDonald's, and the touchy-feely Polish couple actually having sex on the beach. Next stop: Malaga. Exotic Malaga.
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