Here at Yes Hostel my girlfriend and I share a 6 bed dorm with 4 young French-Canadian girls. I have been in dorm room situations like this before and I always apologise pre-emptively for my comprehensive snoring. I woke on Saturday morning and the Canadian girls said I was worse than they could imagine. A large group from the hostel then went on a walking tour which ended at a flea market.
The restaurant was promising at first. Marshall, Nadine and myself found Grelhador De Alfama after we had lost track of our friends (including my girlfriend Jess) at the nearby flea market. A woman in the front coaxed us in. She pointed at a lonely planet recommendation hanging on the wall in a clear-file folder on the front of the building, with that we went in.
The chef was in the corner cooking and with the sound of meat sizzling we drank wine. I felt guilty about enjoying this new place and Jess missing out. The plates were above average in size and they were full, Nadine ordered fish and got an entire fish, head to tail. Marshall and I got the pork.
Later that day we were in the hostel and preparing to leave on a pub crawl. We downed drinks and ate food and then Marshall looked at me and said “my sister and I are susceptible to food poisoning and I think I have it” I was feeling fine.
Later that night It was 3am when we snuck (for the sake of the girls sleeping) into the dorm room. After a solid hour of snoring I shot up, slid down the ladder and violently vomited into the bedroom sink. Marshall slept half the night splayed across the communal sink being sick. After destroying my social standing in dorm room 21 I wrapped myself around a toilet bowl for a while.
It is at moments like this – on a bathroom floor, with Jessica rubbing my back as I stared at my reflection in the toilet water – that one questions ones life decisions.
I spent Sunday either vomiting or wriggling around my bed in pain.
Lisbon is nice by the way.
The Travelling Carpenter 
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