Destinations – Page 7 – Molly On the Move

August 20, 2011. We grappled with Porto’s tricky train system and emerged victorious. We arrived at the proper station and began climbing hills to our hostel. The streets and sidewalks were pieced together with stones, and the part of town our hostel was in was mostly gray and brown. When we arrived at our hostel, saturated with sweat, we hiked up another three flights to a six-person room on the top story. It was spartan, as expected, but had a balcony that looked out over clay roofs and that shared its berth with a small bathroom.

On the weekends, as we learned from the operator of the hostel, the blistering heat flushes the residents of Porto out to the beaches. As a result, our part of Porto was a ghost town. Restaurants and shops alike were closed. At her recommendation, we decided to undertake the long walk to the river, which was the hub of the city. The following pics are from our journey.

Destinations, Portugal

Backpacking crew.

May 29, 2012September 4, 2014 Molly On the Move

August 20, 2011. Meet the backpacking crew in all its glory. From left to right, we have LJ, Kayes, and Meeks, all waiting for the train.

We flew from Stansted, England to Porto, Portugal on the sturdy wings of Ryanair, arriving in the roasty toasty Portugal sun around noon.

Pro: deliciously cheap flight.

Cons: laughably long boarding lines, shrieking demon child.

Destinations, England

Touchdown in Stansted.

May 28, 2012September 4, 2014 Molly On the Move

Below is a draft saved on my Tumblr since last August. So here we go. The first of my backpacking blog entries. Roughly unedited. The date was Friday, August 19, 2011, and covers our overseas crossing from Atlanta to NYC to London Heathrow to London Stansted.

So it’s the first time I’ve had a moment alone with my computer and some yummy WiFi. And I can’t think of anything except for how tired I am.

I came home on Tuesday evening from Athens. Once I’d run all the necessary errands, I began packing on Wednesday at noon. For a 20-day trip plus THREE MONTHS of Oxfordian heaven. So to say I was frazzled was an understatement. After 1.5 hours of sleep (oh yeahhhh), I was chilling at the airport gate. Flying was quite the nail-biter today, given the fact that 3/4 of our group members (myself included) were flying standby.

Fortunately for us, we were cleared onto the first flights to New York and London that came our way. For the duration of the 27 hours of plane, eight-hour layover, plane, and 1.5 hour bus rides, I floated in a constant state of eat-sleep.

But here I am, safe and sound in the Stansted Inn, a hostel with a private bathroom the same size as the bedroom, with sheep bleating in the front yard and trees arching over the long rocky driveway.

We dined at The George, a five minute walk from our hostel. I had grilled fish, chips, peas, and a celebratory class of wine. The crowd was old – just one woman in the pub was under fifty.

And now, after more eating, it is time to sleep again.

This, my friends, is surreal. Later gators.