Lost in Translation

I just arrived in Lisbon yesterday, and it is the most beautiful place I've ever seen. I'm not just saying that either.

Our hostel is called traveler's house, look it up. It won best hostel of the year this year, and I don't disagree. Our room is lovely, and last night we ate piri piri while sitting on bean bag chairs.

Danny and I don't know a drop of Portuguese and seem to be finding ourselves in a bit of a language train wreck. Yesterday, I ended up face to face with a cashier and I both saying "Oh no no no." I guess I've never felt vocally helpless until now. I do have some nice face conversations with old women when I get up for them on the tram.

Older people in Lisbon are maybe kind of mean? You, as in you a younger person, are supposed to approach them with the utmost respect. Nothing less is tolerated. They talk loud on trams after making you give up your seat for them, you feel like you are required to feel bad for them and hold their arms while walking in the tram. I don't know, to me it is all a hoax. Why don't they get down like the grammy and grampys of Madrid? I don't get it. I don't want to.

Danny and I took the tram the wrong way, and ended up on the wrong hill, and spent the wrong 1.40. It was worth it I suppose. We met a cute British couple who did the exact same thing, and had a "lovely stroll." When we finally ended up on the right tram, we ventured through the oldest district in Lisbon and saw an incredible view of it as well. I took pictures, and will post them in the next couple of days.

Now we are relaxing, or at least I am. Danny went to see a castle, and came back after not finding it for an hour. I am content with my decision to take a summer nap with the window open to an exquisite city called Lisbon.