Arrival Untold: Escape

Break Ups Suck

Here is a quick series of events for context.

I date a guy for over a year. I move out of his parents house, back home to South Carolina. I break up with him. I go on a solo trip to Mexico for a month. The goal of the trip being a “find yourself” moment. Still wasn’t no contact with the guy so finding myself, I did not. Finally go no contact but, I had a work trip to NYC and he just moved there and I wanted to see him. Saw him, vibes were off, but I pretended my vision was impaired. Get home try to rekindle, what I thought was a spark, and got ignored. I spiral. Asking myself “what does this mean?” I guess I pretended to be dumb as well. I go to therapy and the therapist said something so simple.

“Why do you need someone to tell you what you already know? Their actions are enough.”

Yeah, that got me together.

Time passes, therapy continues and with that comes to the surface a lot of realizations regarding my behavior and how my families influence effects it. Living with family is great, I saved money while working remotely, and had enough left over to go on trips. But, I was frustrated and tired of being there, I needed a break. I needed to go touch grass someplace far away.

After searching Skyscanner for tickets, I landed on Portugal the cheapest tickets were during Thanksgiving. How convenient, I thought, I get to be away from family during a family centered holiday. I booked a 3 week trip to Portugal 2 weeks before the departure date. I was obviously very eager.

The first week I spent in Lisbon. Spending the mornings running around the city walking for hours up and down the hills. I packed a carry on for my 3 week trip so my only shoes were some maroon platform Dr. Martens. Definitely not the preferred walking shoe for hiking up the Lisbon streets. But I soldiered on camera in hand taking pictures of whatever piqued my interest. Stopping at the first place I saw whenever I was hungry. The only planned thing I had that week was taking the subway to Sintra to visit the colorful National Palace of Pena, walking around there asking another solo traveler to take pictures of me and then when we parted ways whipping out my tripod to capture my shots. Once finished visiting then rushing back to the hostel from the palace to get online for my 9 AM east coast start time for work but getting lost in the subway for a good 30 minutes causing me to be a little late anyways. I also had to try the legendary Pastel De Nata a custardy desert from the original restaurant Pateis de Belem. I took the street car to the restaurant waited in line despite it being so early in the morning and sat on a bench at a park around the corner eating my pastry with a tea I got from a coffee cart nearby. It was a nice memory but to be honest, custardy desserts are rarely for me. The last thing I did that first week was meet up with another American girl who was in the throes of trying to get her long term visa to stay in Portugal. I put in a Facebook page called the “Globethotter” that I was in Lisbon and looking to hang out she replied and we went to this really great restaurant for brunch to get to know each other.

Overall my first week was pretty uneventful. Sure I got to explore a new city, try the things the blogs say to try, visit the places the blogs say to visit but, thats normal travel stuff. But little did I know my trip was just starting to heat up.

I decided to go to Porto for my second week. I was going back and forth deciding if I should go to some of the beach towns just to check them out or maybe go to the countryside seeing what that has to offer. But it was November not an appropriate time nor the appropriate weather to visit a beach town. As for the countryside I’d most likely need a car to travel around with public transit being sparse and at that time I hadn’t reached the “renting a car level” of traveling abroad yet. So to Porto by train it was.

I thought Lisbon was hilly!? Porto scoffed in Lisbon’s face with the amount of hills with insane inclines. I decided to book Airbnb’s in Porto, I was feeling a little under the weather (probably from the germ-y people at my Lisbon hostel), I needed to wash clothes, and I just didn’t feel like being in the presence of people 24/7. My second week in Portugal started off the same, except this time I was on Thanksgiving holiday so I had more time to fill my days with exploration. I walked until my feet hurt, I ate at the places closest to me when hunger hit, I took pictures of the sights I saw. But, I wanted and craved something different. This wasn’t the trip I envisioned. Sure, I am getting a break from everything back in the states that was the goal I suppose but, I wanted a little drama, a little romance maybe?

I thought about the book I read What I was doing while you were breeding, a travel narrative of a comedy writer who travels and has romantic encounters in each country she visits. A kiss from a Brazilian in Brazil, making love to an Australian in Bali. I thought about Eat Pray Love, I had ate enough, I have written enough in my diary, I wanted to get to the love. I also thought about the reason Portugal called to me in the first place a podcast called the Globethotter, where she talks about her romantic encounters and how much Portugal was pivotal in those encounters.

I wanted a Hoe Trip.

Now if you are a man in my life, this is probably where you should stop reading.

Everyone else, lets get in to it.

After I broke up with that guy and went to Mexico, to be honest that was supposed to be a Hoe Trip. Of course, I wanted to re-find myself after losing myself my interests and my wants in the relationship and blah blah blah, but I also wanted a little rebound. Unfortunately that didn’t happen in Mexico since I was still in contact with my ex. Portugal was supposed to be my second try.

Now, my definition of a Hoe Trip is : A trip one takes with the expressed purpose of experiencing a lustful encounter abroad.

But all Hoe Trips are a little bit different dependent on the persons requirements are. For example some requirements can be:

1. Must kiss someone

2. Must have a meal or drink paid for

3. Must tell someone you love them

4. Must grind on someone at the club

5. Must have sex

   
   

The list could go on.

I imagined for myself a whirlwind love, where I was to fall in love in a week, spending the whole days with that person and then as we are about to separate cry that we may never see each other again while promising each other that we will. I am indeed a hopeless romantic and realizing this I decided to set my goals a little more based in reality for this Hoe Trip and decided my only requirement was that I kiss someone. I mean a kiss to a hopeless romantic, I could think about that for months to come.

Unfortunately I had kind of isolated myself by staying at an Airbnb, I mean how could I kiss someone if I’m not meeting people. I reach back out on the Globethotter Facebook page and see if anyone was in Porto. I ended up meeting Liza. She was staying at a hostel and they were going out that night to the clubs. After drinking some Port wine I head to her hostel. Liza is about 5’3, living on the USA, Mexico border. You know the one where a certain someone talked about building a wall. She’s bright, funny, energetic and once I found out how much of an avid traveler she is knew that we could be friends. She was also a supporter of my goal to at least get a little kiss. She on the other hand had her own list of requirements, her of course being on a Hoe trip herself. I mean we’re listening to a podcast called Globethotter after all.

A small group of us from the hostel went out to a small club playing afro beats. It wasn’t what I was expecting. It was almost like dance practice. The black folks were in the middle of the dance floor, dancing to the music. The white folks were surrounding them in the circle parroting their every move. I look over to Liza and she looks over to me and we have the same looks on our face. As my first foray in to Portuguese night life it was not starting out strong. As a hostel we all grouped up together dancing to the music in our own way, when a bald white guy starts looking in my direction and sauntering over, arms raised and hips swaying to the music. We danced, his body trying to stick to the rhythm of mine, and he was doing a half decent job at keeping up. I turn to him and he kisses me.

Now, if you are black and reading this. I know that you are cringing. Kissing in the club is a no. You will see, twerking, gyrating, dry humping. Some one will be throwing that thang back so hard the dance partner will be furiously hanging on dry humping for their lives and have to be propped up by a wall or his friends to make sure they don’t fall down. But kissing!? No.

You see, I consumed a lot of white media growing up and I went to a PWI (Predominantly white institution) where it seemed normal, and I expected it to be a thing. The black community on the other hand we look at white people swapping saliva willy nilly and think, “thats why they get mono,” I definitely cant say I don’t agree with those sentiments. But I wanted to let loose, I wasn’t surrounded by the black community or anyone I knew really who had those notions. So, there I was, swapping saliva, leaning up against the wall with this guy whose name was previously screamed in to my ear over the music but still couldn’t make out.

After my lipgloss was gone, I turn to find Liza who was ready to go and we decide to all call it a night. I walk with them back to the hostel since it wasn’t too far and start to walk back to my Airbnb, thinking to myself that I better speed walk since it was late and dark to dodge all the potential weirdos. The guy decides to walk with me, quelling those anxieties. I learn his name, we’ll call him Daniel, he was German spending his holiday traveling around Portugal and other places for a little over a month. He recently suffered an injury that caused him to be hospitalized for a while, losing a bunch of weight. He shows me pictures of his physique prior to the injury. This was his first trip since it happened so he was very excited to be traveling again. He shows me more pictures of some of the extensive traveling he has done.

I can’t really remember the questions I asked him or if he asked me any questions about myself. My impression of this bald white guy, who sort of had rhythm, with prominent bone structure was that he seemed nice.

We make it to my Airbnb and I decided to invite him up to the room.

The next day I went off to the wine tour, on the way back Liza was telling me that everyone was going to do this pub crawl tonight and that I should come out. Pub crawls are alway hit or miss but this one was a humongous pub crawl. People across all the hostels in Porto were there it seemed like. We shuffle from place to place en masse as pub crawls do. Liza and I make conversation with the people from her hostel, there was one guy who caught my eye there and I seemed to have caught his as well, we’ll call him Rocky. Daniel was also there seemingly vying for my attention.

After a while of bouncing around, we make it to our final destination, a club that was really packed. Sometimes these pub crawls take you to really lame places, this was not one of those times. Liza and I were dancing together and so were other people from the hostel all congregating together dancing. Daniel approaches me for a dance, I entertain him for some time but my heart wasn’t in it. He felt the energy shift and backed off looking for another person who will entertain him that night. Rocky and I talked to each other a couple of times throughout the night but just enough to peak each others curiosity. Eventually the group split apart and when I looked around he was gone as well. I asked Liza if she had seen where he might’ve went, but she didn’t even see him leave. The night had gone stale anyways, I head back to my Airbnb for some much needed rest.

Liza and I met up with a group of random guys from the hostel and walked around Porto together. Taking pictures, crossing the bridge, drinking flights of Port wine, it would’ve been a good time had the guys not made some very disrespectful comments regarding Portugal. All of them coming from a “better” more northern European country and saw Portugal as less than. Afterwards Liza and I talk about their conversation when they were out of ear shot. Lamenting that since they talk about Portugal like that she can’t even imagine the things they would say about her country, Mexico. I tell her I don’t get whats even the point of them traveling if they just believe everywhere else is bottom of the barrel. The audacity of having all these privileges; to afford to travel, to have a strong passport or be apart of the Schengen zone, yet still take everything for granted.

As we make our way back to the hostel we run in to Rocky who was heading out camera in hand to do some exploring of his own and asked if I wanted to come with. Despite my platform Dr. Martens hurting my feet after already walking all around town, I say yes. Rocky is shorter than me the platform shoes exaggerating the height difference, he’s a little stocky, covered in tattoos, from New York but lived in Berlin and said he was mixed with Spanish, asian, and something else. All of which kind of made him look Filipino. The New Jersey and Berlin influence definitely came through as his whole wardrobe consisted of black clothes. He just oozed cool.

His stories that he told me also seemed to back up this thought, sex clubs in Berlin, photographing celebrities, purporting he’s met my favorite music artist and my favorite band, (Kid Cudi and Ho99o9). He’s been living life it seemed. I mention my life experiences that pale in comparison to his, which makes sense as he was a couple years older than me. He proceeded to give me advice that felt more big brotherly than romantic which rubbed me the wrong way, “is he looking down on me?”, I thought. But hey, I’m in Portugal on a somewhat of a date with a cute guy who seemed to be interested in me, this could be the whirlwind love I dreamt about.

We walk around talking to each other until dark grabbing a slice of pizza when we got hungry.

Not wanting the night to end just yet I ask if he want to come back to the Airbnb with me.

We watched Seinfeld.

Over the next couple of days Rocky has is eye on another girl, I guess it wasnt the whirlwind love after all. I complain about the situation to Liza over dinner, she says fuck them, and that the new girl wan’t that cute anyways. Might not have gained a new lover but I definitely gained a new best friend.

My time in Portugal coming to an end I decided to spend my final week back in Lisbon. Unfortunately I had to whip back out my work laptop cold from not being in use the past couple of days. The Thanksgiving holiday was officially over, my holiday was just hitting its stride. Lisbon part two but feeling freed.

I was back on that hostel life. I couldn’t commit to a party hostel, too much FOMO and way too loud for working remotely, I instead opted for possibly the most boring hostel I have ever stayed in. It was very barren and dull. Fortunately and easy solve for a boring hostel is simply visit the party one. You get all the fun without the constant commotion and potential threat that someone might be having sex in the bunk above you.

While I was working, some people I had hung out with in Porto, also made the journey to Lisbon around the same time as me and said to come to their hostel. They were having a pub crawl, of course. I arrive alone, not seeing anyone I recognized yet and decide to sit at the bar. I make conversation with the people sitting around me and the bartenders. People were filtering in laughing, conversing, flirting, getting ready for the main event. I finally spot the group I met in Porto and Daniel was with them, I said hello to them all and asked what they got up to in Lisbon that day. Having a group to go back to and chat with is cool when feeling a little out of place, but I wasn’t really in to them. The vibes weren’t matching, they weren’t my people. I decided I was going to float around go from group to group this pub crawl.

I was already feeling freed time to take advantage of this new found self confidence.

We exit the hostel starting our adventure around Lisbon’s bars and clubs. I talk to people that seem and look interesting. At one of the bars, I see Daniel making out with this Indian girl, “does he have a type?” I think to myself. That type being anyone thats not white. I may never know. I do know, after I saw them making out they were not to be seen for the rest of the pub crawl. I eventually lock eyes with someone, he’s tall, long thick hair to his shoulders, scruffy beard, very handsome, and also happened to be Indian. My type, still to be undetermined based on the people I was interested in on this trip.

He was walking with this other girl, who was probably also interested in him or maybe they connected back at the hostel or something. But that did not worry me. I joined in on their conversation introducing myself and laughing along with them.

The clubs and bars up until that point were okay, at best. They often expect us to bring the fun to the locations. I wasn’t interested with any of the music being played at any of the locations until we got to this one place with blue lights. It was playing Hip Hop and RnB mixes something I could actually dance and sway my hips to. Now I wouldn’t consider myself a great dancer, but when in the company of mainly white Europeans, the bar is under the ground. So I dance, and then somehow eventually the Indian guy is dancing with me. The other girl he came with nowhere to be seen.

I wish I could’ve seen us from the others perspectives. Two tall good looking melanated people who both have tons of hair and rhythm! Literally must’ve looked angelic.

I asked if he wanted to head out of there and walk around the city at night, he said yes. We first stop by a abnormally busy restaurant for 1AM, everything back stateside would’ve been close to doing last calls by then. But, this place was packed and was a stark difference from the dimly lit multi colored club. This place was bright, almost soberingly bright, threatening to take away the feel good state I worked so hard to get to during the pub crawl. We grab espressos and sit at a two seater table nearby.

I’ve learned that his name is Rob, a very anglo-saxon name for and Indian guy, I thought to myself. But, who am I to judge with the last name Johnson. I believe he was simply in Europe visiting some friends and decided to stop by Lisbon for a stop over before heading back to his full time job somewhere in Mumbai, I think. The details are hazy. All I kept on thinking about is if this guy is gonna kiss me by the end of the night.

We walked more along the water front stopping at a cart playing music with people dancing around it to grab another drink before sitting and watching others coupled up going for their own romantic strolls walk past. I’m sure we talked about our travels, our lives, our desires, and asked each other what’s next, after Lisbon. Similar conversations I had with Daniel and Rocky but with Rob it seemed a little easier. Or maybe I was just more comfortable.

We saw others riding scooters, after telling him I had never ridden one before we set off trying to find one that was charged up enough too ride. After I test drove it by myself very slowly laughing and giggling at myself trying something new, I let him take the lead and we set off down the sidewalk together on one scooter. Both laughing when we almost went flying off the scooter when it suddenly stopped. It was 2AM. The scooters stop working at that time to prevent drunk people from getting in to accidents. Valid, as we ourselves were not sober.

Thwarted from joyriding the streets we walk back to his hostel twiddling our thumbs about what to do next. He said good night hugged me and then… went inside.

My speedy walk back to my hostel I was a little disappointed, no kiss to end our perfect night? I guess not, but I still had a smile across my face thinking over all that we did. I thought I could think about a kiss for months to come? I thought about Rob not kissing me for a whole year afterwards.

After I got back to South Carolina, I felt different. This trip had changed me. I was so much more confident, self assured. I felt grown and sexy, like those parties I used to hear about on the radio when I was a kid that were only for “the grown and sexy.”

Some trips are about the escape, getting out of a routine, breaking away from your reality. Some trips are revelatory, discoveries being made, eyes opening wider.Some trips are both.

I found myself and came back better. Liberated.

See more from the Pilot Issue of Arrival Mag below:

Arrival: Untold (Physical)

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