Portugal: Vida Pura

Team Brazil is split up as Gustavo mysteriously departs for Italy, leaving Thais, who speaks verrrrry little English, apart from when she suddenly comes out with 'Hollyyy I don't remember NUUUTTING and I wake up in morneeeng and my fuckeen arse hole it fucken HURRTS' and other things that make me die laughing. But communication works in strange ways, we laugh a lot. She is teaching me how to sing 'three little birds' by Bob Marley in Brazilian Portugese, and I'm teaching her how to say 'you stupid shitting boy cunt BOY crusty wan shaft tit bags I couldn't give a flying FUUUUUCK' in English, along with all other important phrases.

Sometimes in the evening we climb up the hill behind the farm, up the ladder to the platform on top of the white cube water tower. For yoga + sunset + the view + swallows + the bats.

Our last beachy weekend together, Jack has a bath in a cow trough, Thais and I consistently win at hitch-hiking, so many thanks to the kind people who save us the 4km walk, thrown around by 6ft waves, dreadlock from Brendan (sorry mum), Thais pisses on the sand, octopus salad and Sagres at the beach bar before a night in Odeceixe and a lot of crazy juice medronha. At some point everyone is lost and I'm having a dance-off with a huge Brazilian man who's favourite move is rubbing the top of his bald head on my stomach.

We have a new arrival, Daniel, WALES WOOOO. He asks how to say 'you have beautiful eyes' in Portugese and naturally (oblivious to him) we instead teach 'your cocks are really pretty'. He excitedly shouts it around the bar practicing his pronunciation.

Ai buseta velha.

Sean with Elvis and Katie and Mercedez.

Swimming river swimming.

German Paul and Ole.

Jack is burnt.


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