call me big papa
Probably things would be different now I'm not 19 and wouldn't have to walk around with a big map.
Always fancy doing this kind of thing but just no way to get twelve people organised, in advance. Even to get 5 of us to rent a little place together outside Lisbon seems impossible.thats why i admire the way you and your 12 closest male friends just rent a villa with a pool somewhere warm and stay there. no interaction with the locals. just get the beers in.
why would you go to a foreign country alone though? i would never do that, not for love nor money. i went to Evesham alone once and stayed in a Travelodge and it was terrifying and strange.It's a really strange feeling being in a foreign country alone, shits me right up. It feels like an adventure just to go into a shop to buy crisps.
I actually feel like this in strange British cities too. Used to feel like that in London but now my heart pumps Beefeater blood.
“I began to think of myself as a perennial tourist. There was something agreeable about this. To be a tourist is to escape accountability. Errors and failings don't cling to you the way they do back home. You're able to drift across continents and languages, suspending the operation of sound thought. Tourism is the march of stupidity. You're expected to be stupid. The entire mechanism of the host country is geared to travelers acting stupidly. You walk around dazed, squinting into fold-out maps. You don't know how to talk to people, how to get anywhere, what the money means, what time it is, what to eat or how to eat it. Being stupid is the pattern, the level and the norm. You can exist on this level for weeks and months without reprimand or dire consequence. Together with thousands, you are granted immunities and broad freedoms. You are an army of fools, wearing bright polyesters, riding camels, taking pictures of each other, haggard, dysenteric, thirsty. There is nothing to think about but the next shapeless event.”