I was stuck in this hot stuffy, SMELLY little box on a train ride from Madrid to Lisbon, the capital of Portugal, for SIX HOURS! They were the worst 6 hours of my life; I really thought that I would suffocate. It was so claustrophic, and I'm not claustrophobic. Seriously, I don't know why my Mom made me take a bunch of deodorant, because honestly I'm not the one that needs it. The rumor is true that people just don't freaking USE IT!!! I should give away free samples! During the train ride, the conductor asked for our passports. My friend couldn't find hers fast enough for the conductor, so he looks at mine and he's like, oh you're both American, well I don't have to see it then. So EVERYONE in the compartment got mad...I heard three words that can't be a good combination in any situation: Americans, ricas(rich), and Bush. I finally started understanding more and they were talking about why they had to show their ID if they were Portuguese citizens and blah blah blah. Portuguese is easy to understand if you REALLY listen and understand Spanish: like adios is adeush, and buenos dias is bom dia, estacion is estaçao and thank you is obrigadu. Throughout the evening, my seatmate Crazy Portuguese Lady (Ill call her La Loca) kept staring at this Spanish girl and my friend, who would look away and pretend not to see her. It was really creepy, because her blank eyes were the faded blue of a lifeless doll. Finally, the Spanish girl got mad and told her to stop staring. La Loca would jump up at every stop and scream at the top of her lungs SANTA CRUZ!! IS THIS SANTA CRUZ (in Portuguese) ! QUE LOCA! Then she would fall down on the chair in fits and start crying and praying. She finally scared the Spanish girl so much, that she ran out of the compartment. So as the evening turned to night, the lights were turned off and I was in the pitch dark with the crazy lady by me (having a EuroTrip moment http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxiyRqniBJg)). I was stiffly sitting up and trying to cover all parts of my bags with my legs and hands discreetly. Little by little she siddled up to me; I wanted her yeasty bread dough body off of me. Finally, she was half laying on top of me, while I was crouching in the very corner of the compartment squished against the window. I could feel her every breath that perhaps only feigned sleep, and she kept putting her elbow on my leg. I kept breathing in slowly, trying to get oxygen and repeat to myself: Stop being American, stop being American: after all people naturally smell, and here in Europe, only Americans get uptight if you touch them or if you smell. Then, my mind kept reeling and I thought that she lay on me on purpose just so she could get close and rob me. I finally devised a plan to get her off me. When the train hit a bump, I raised my elbow and jabbed her in the lungs...but tried to make it look like the train did it. She made an oomph noise and finally got off of me. How awful, I just punched the Pillsbury Dough Boy. So needless to say, I didn't sleep at all. When we got to Lisboa (Lisbon) thank God, we caught the Metro downstairs and looked for our hostal in the mazes that the Portuguese call streets. Cheap overnight train rides to Portugal are overrated.
