When the apartment rentals company Roomorama reached out to me last month about extending our partnership and offering to host me in apartments around the world on a monthly basis, well, I don’t think they really quite knew what they were getting into. The write up I gave them on Malaga? That was a little unconventional to say the least. The one you’re about to read now? Well let me just warn you in advance. Brace yourselves.
What follows isn’t your average accommodation review.
Rocking up in Lisbon (rocking? I’ve been saying that too much of late) I travelled overnight from Madrid to arrive in the centre of the city at Rossio plaza. Having then been offered drugs by four separate dealers – all in less than five minutes – naturally I began to wonder what kind of hell I’d stepped into. Thankfully, as the Portuguese capital’s dilapidated buildings and shady characters loomed over me, I made a break down to Martim Moniz and quickly found myself walled up in the safe sanctity of a centuries-old studio apartment.
There, greeted at the door by a rather lovely raven-haired Portuguese lady, it was explained to me that I would have the run of the apartment (a four bedroom studio purposefully designed for artists and other free-loving hippies) for the remainder of my four night stay.
That’s right. An apartment. A lovely one. Alone. For four nights.
And so what does any world-weary traveller do in the shadow of that kind of news? Why, they get naked in celebration of course. Or at least I did…
Vomit bags at the ready? You’re going to need them.
So now you’ve feasted your eyes on that (hat-tip to naked Mac wielding man Colin Wright for that sexy idea), well you can see for yourselves just what kind of fun I got up to in my apartment room in Lisbon. A double to myself and an armchair in the corner, I made it mine. The startled neighbours across the square caught an occasional eyeful too. Not that there was much to catch 😉
As for all those doubts and fears I’d expressed previously about my
Spanish Iberian adventure? Being naked and alone solved all that. My doubts over the continuation of My Spanish Adventure all seemed pretty trivial with my flaccid pale member bouncing wildly in the thin Portuguese air.
But wait. The fun didn’t stop there. The eye candy continues. Just check out the bay windows on this.
See how lovely, when you cast your sinful eyes away from my malnourished frame, the lounge area of my Lisbon apartment looks? The book resting in the window sill is a smart move too. And one that would prove especially useful later.
But first, the most important room of all short-term let apartments. The room where the most blushing is done (at least when this sultry travel writer rolls into town). The bathroom.
That porcelain white basin? That neatly creased curtain? The sparkling silver taps giving life to my loins? I’d give them all a good 10/10 in the cleanliness stakes. All that hostel filth and grime from Madrid washed off very smoothly indeed.
And so after such long and desperate scrubbing, of course I was going to need a good sit down. Luckily my Lisbon apartment also had me neatly covered in that area too…
That soft leather armchair was the surface of dreams. And all I needed after a weary day of seeing the Lisbon sights and eating all the bacalao humanly possible.
Yet alas. There was something missing. That absolute freedom and wild wanderlust that landing in a new city and a lovely airy apartment brings? Well that can only best be embraced by tackling it. Or, perhaps better put, getting your tackle out in the midst of it…
So in summation of my time spent “hanging” in my Lisbon apartment, let’s just say it was a fun one. As for those books? I’m sure the apartment owners will be pleased to know that they came to good use. Even if a single page remained unopened.
And for those of you who came here to read about Lisbon? This I’ll say: this is My Spanish Adventure not My Lonely Planet. My naked bodice is just as good a representation of a Portugal’s “biggest” city than any other you’ll find anyway. Just ask any other female travel blogger worth their salt.
“Size” really does matter after all.
Thanks to Roomorama for putting me up. And bringing this filth to the audience it deserves.