November 13, 2014
My Head Hurts: Hungover Looking Out At The Rain in Lisbon.
Some inmates at the hostel including my good self where sat round the dining-room table after dinner playing some kind of drinking game. A roll of two dices with a hierarchy of numbers deciding round winner. A book and an upturned cup used for each to conceal their roll and if, the score was unfavourable, they could bluff when saying what they got, principally to the next person who would need to beat it, or before taking the dices, the next person could say, you lied. The last dice roller would thereby have to lift the cup and reveal what they really scored. Got it. Probably not as there were a few other rules too convoluted to explain in print. Also most present including me were having trouble following.
Anyway the wine soon run out and to get away I volunteered to go out and get more. On returning, interest had declined drastically helped by the Frenchwoman whose idea the game was not explaining all the rules. And soon we just decided to drink wine. The Australian in the room suggested we go out to a Fado-bar. We did. But our Australian friend must've confused fado music for something else, because when we get to the place he'd in mind, it was just a regular bar. Watching the music performance may have slowed down alcohol consumption. And after that bar a Spanish guy brought us to a club, having to duck in under a shop awning on the way for shelter as it pissed down. The club had a five euro cover and we felt cheated when we went in to find a near empty basement cavern. At least the entry included a drink. The Australian suggested we check out the club next door. Retaining our tickets we do. Free to get in and heaving with people. The Spanish guy's logic why we didn't come here was, this club shuts at four, whereas the one we paid to enter remains open until six.
I had planned on being back on the road but my head hurt so much this morning, that it just wasn't going to happen today.
A Taiwanese girl at school in France starts talking to me at the breakfast table and conversation is painfully difficult. "You come by plane?" She asks. "Bike" I reply "You come on plane with Bicycle?" "No. I cycled from Ireland" I explain as a shocked expression subsides from her face. Also what a bad hangover I have and ask does she ever get hungover. "Yes. Sometimes" she laughs and adds "I try to control myself" Then she offers me a painkiller. I gladly except and she goes away returning with a white and red capsuled.
I can only face a small bowl of cornflakes and coffee, then have to lie down. I stay in bed until two. It is raining out and when I ask someone, they say it has been wet all day, so I wouldn't have been going anyway.
It has been raining a lot recently and without having checked the weather, I'm hoping for a dry day tomorrow to finally get moving again, as time is starting to become limited.
FRIDAY UPDATE: Well a group of us went out to a fado-bar. Though back at two and tucked up in bed at half past, Is feeling tired this morning and the sky grey, decided on another day here and ended up doing the free walking tour along with a dozen others. The cloud actually broke up and it turned out a good day. In the afternoon I took some photos.
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