The sun sets on Portugal

My last night in Portugal was spent in aggressive application of the 'whatever you want babe' approach at a bar and bistro I specifically chose because it was called Josephine and I miss mine.

Sandwiched on either side were two acquisitions - a red vintage neckerchief in honour of Juan, and an extendable poster tube to keep my print safer in transit, as well as swallow up my Compostela. Along with everything else in the pack, they got thoroughly organised for the morning ahead, as I'd be heading to the airport by 9am.

Finally, I went and sat in the hostel garden with a prize from whack-a-carb earlier in the day, feeling the warm evening breeze on my bare arms, and feeling ready.Read more