Kicking and Screaming
And just like that, Remote Year Darién is a third of the way through our 12-month trip. We spent a month adjusting in Prague, a month slowing down and bonding in Belgrade, a month kvetching in London and a month falling in love with Europe's oldest city, Lisbon. Now we’re packed and ready to head to Rabat, Morocco and we have no idea what to expect, really.
During the last couple of days, I’ve gotten a bit teary-eyed and once the wheels are up on today’s flight, I won’t be surprised if I break into a full ugly cry—my face blotchy, red and crumpled. It’s not just Lisbon that got under my skin in the best way possible. It’s this whole fucking country.
The beaches in the Algarve are so inviting and dreamy, they seem other-worldly.
I didn't want to leave the lovely landscapes and slow-paced rural life in Peneda-Gerês National Park.
The charm of Porto is like that person you meet at a party and immediately hit it off with.
The rolling hills, lagoons and endless ocean views of the Azores are beyond stunning.
I gaze at my photos and conjure up my memories from my five-week stint in this amazing country, shake my head and think, “Fucking Portugal.”
So put me on a plane, kicking and screaming. I have no doubt, I’ll be back for more.