Not to self:

Note to self: Just don´t let this be me when I turn 50! We´re having a drink at this little bar that´s been there forever. This very posh blond woman is dancing like her life depended on it, with one foot on a chair throwing her hair around in a gesture that is probably meant to be sexy, but looks more like a whiplash. Her friends doesn´t say anything because they are all just as drunk. Welcome to Albufeira, all bets are off. I´m sure at home in England she drinks tea at tea-time, but beer is the new tea when she lands in Sunny Algarve.

Everything seems to be allowed her, people walk around in their underwear (yes, underwear, not just bikini) just to get all the sun they can handle (lots of pink flesh around here), they have socks in their sandals, they drink till they drop, they do everything they don´t do at home. Lucky me, if I go around the corner to the famous street “The Strip” I get a glimpse of it all. I try to see the charm, but fail. I try to ignore the half-naked people in the streets with no taste, they would never walk around like that at home, surely?

I´m not sure about anything anymore, there are so many bachelorette-parties here that crawl around in the streets, so many “golfers” who play “golf”, it amazes me that they never get to see the beautiful Algarve, all the things I see when I don´t hang out in “The Strip”. Must remember next time to wear a cat-suit  and devil-horns so I fit in.

But who knows, after living here a few more years, I might be just as charming as the blond 50 year something lady who was so drunk that she had to be carried home! Or maybe not…

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