Unexpected: A Backpacker Romance (The Backpacker Romances)

by Marin Harlock

  “Which way?” I asked.

  “Um…” She turned the map upside down. “Which way’s north?”

  “Er…” I looked around helplessly. I’d always been pretty bad with directions, but changing hemispheres had made me even worse. My new rule of thumb was to go the opposite way to what I actually thought was correct. That usually ended up working out better than following my instincts. I looked at Mara for help. She was smirking at us.

  “It’s this way.” She pointed behind us, away from the plaza. “I know where we are now.”

  “Oh good. Useful at last,” I said. Mara stuck her tongue out at me. She led us up a side street.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here, Mara. I was about to lead us off the wrong way,” Gemma muttered, putting her map away. I just grinned at her. We were really out of London. There was no way I could bump into Tom here. I felt light and free for the first time in a month.

  Mara led us up a dingy looking staircase.

  “Er, are you sure this is it, Mar?” Gemma asked as we climbed past a homeless looking man snoozing in the stairwell.

  “Yeah, don’t worry about him.” She led us up a couple more flights of stairs and then rang a doorbell. We were buzzed through and stepped into a pleasant looking room. Dark wooden beams separated part of the room, with three computers lined up against the wall where one girl was video-chatting away in what sounded like German. There was a pile of comfy looking cushions and couches in what I assumed was the common room. It looked very warm and cozy; much nicer than the hostel Tom and I had stayed at in Amsterdam a couple of months ago. The young man sitting at the desk stood up and smiled as we approached. I tried to keep my face neutral. He was almost as good looking as the flight attendant on the plane.

  “Hello! Welcome to Lisbon!”

  “Thanks,” Mara smiled warmly at him. “We have a reservation. I’m Mara Burke and this is Beatrix Larkin and Gemma Ladanowski.”

  “Yes, I was expecting you.” He smiled again, at all of us. “I am Pedro. Mara, did you not stay here with another girl a few months ago?” Pedro cocked his head, studying Mara.

  Mara brightened up. “Yes! With Annie. She couldn’t come this time. Wow, I’m surprised you remember us! I didn’t expect you to, not with all the people you must get coming through here…” I watched bemusedly as she reached up to touch her hair. I wasn’t at all surprised that he would remember her and Annie. Mara was tall, blonde, beautiful and friendly to boot. Annie was short, chirpy and with an amazing mop of curly red hair that had to be unusual in Portugal. They made for a memorable pair, unlike Gemma and I. Mousy brown hair never gets you far.

  “Oh yes. Of course I remember you, Mara.”

  I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing and I dared not meet Gemma’s eyes. I almost expected Pedro to take Mara’s hand and kiss it, and Mara sure didn’t look like she’d be opposed to such an event transpiring.

  The moment passed without me bursting into laughter, or any hands or kisses being exchanged and Pedro turned his attention back to the computer and checked us in. He gave us a quick tour of the hostel, for mine and Gemma’s benefit. There was a medium sized kitchen where he told us we could come down between seven and nine-thirty am and get free crepes or eggs. The cozy looking common room led to another smaller TV room, or ‘the Media Room’ as Pedro put it, where two hungover young men were lying on couches watching one of the Die Hard movies. I wasn’t sure which one it was. Pedro led us out of the common area and back into the stairwell. He took us up a flight of stairs, told us the code to get into the rooms, and then showed us to our room. It was a pleasant looking, clean and airy, 4 bed dorm. Everything was yellow. So far it was just the three of us in there.

  I walked over to the window and grinned at the view over the plaza, and the castle perched up on the hill. I hadn’t been able to see the castle from the ground.

  “Check out the view! I didn’t know there was a castle here,” I said to the other two. They came over and stood at either side of me. Pedro smiled at our enthusiasm.

  “It’s Europe, of course there’s a castle. There are castles everywhere.” Gemma poked me.

  “Well… it’s still freaking cool.”

  Pedro cleared his throat. “There is a pub-crawl to the Bairro Alto district tonight for the hostel, if you are interested?”

  “That sounds great! What time?” Mara turned to smile at Pedro.

  “We’ll meet at eight pm, in the common room. You’ll all come, yes?”

  “Yes, we’ll all come!” Mara said without even glancing at me or Gemma for confirmation. Gemma rolled her eyes at me, but she was grinning.

  “Excellent. Very excellent. It is five euro each, and you will get a free drink before we leave, and then a free shot at each bar.”

  “Awesome.” Mara waved as Pedro backed out of the room and shut the door. Gemma burst out laughing as soon as the door clicked shut.

  “Good god, woman! Restrain yourself!”

  Mara looked slightly indignant. “What are you talking about?” Gemma and I just looked at her. She sighed. “Why should I? I’m single. We’re all single. You do realise this is the first trip we’ve ever taken when we’ve all actually been single?”

  “Oh, yeah. It is too. I hadn’t realised,” Gemma said.

  “Mmm. Thanks for reminding me,” I groaned.

  “Oh buck up. You need to have a fling on this trip. You can never really get over someone until you kiss someone else,” Mara said matter-of-factly. Gemma nodded in agreement.

  “It’s true.”

  “We’ll see,” I said. “I want top bunk.” That triggered a scramble for the other bunk beds. Mara ended up beneath me, and Gemma got the other bottom bunk. Apparently I was the only one who liked the top bunk.

  “Shall we go explore?” Mara poked my dangling foot.

  “Yeah, let me get changed first though,” I said. I jumped off the bunk and quickly realised that I wasn’t quite as agile as I’d been when I’d shared a room with my brother for a year when I was ten. I rummaged through my backpack for something a little more appropriate for the weather. I pulled out my favourite long shorts - I would blind people with my pasty white legs if I wore those teeny tiny short shorts that girls seemed to be favouring these days - and a nice flowing pale blue top that Annie had found for me in a thrift shop a couple of weeks ago.

  “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” I told the other two and headed for the bathroom. Thankfully the showers were empty at this time of day. I jumped in and rinsed off the layer of sweat that I’d picked up since we landed, and then quickly pulled my clothes on. After a cursory glance in the mirror to make sure nothing was amiss, I went back to the room.

  Mara was staring out the window, and Gemma had changed into a nice orange sundress.

  “I’m ready,” I announced. “Let’s go,” I said when neither of them moved.

  “Have you two got sunscreen on?” Mara asked.

  “No, not yet.”

  “You’d better put some on. You’ll burn in this sun,” said Mara, turning back to look out the window.

  “Yes, Mum.” I glared at her tanned skin. She’d probably never been sunburnt in her life. I really should have known better, though. My father and brother may have nice dark olive skin, but I definitely took after the Scottish side of the family. London had put me off my guard.

  “Here you go.” Gemma threw me her bottle of sunscreen. I opened the bottle and sniffed. Coconut. Good. I didn’t want to smell like sunscreen.

  We traipsed back down the stairs. The sleeping man in the stairwell was gone. We stood outside in the bright sunlight.

  “Where shall we go?” I asked.

  “Waterfront or castle?”

  “Castle,” I said.

  “Waterfront,” said Gemma at the same time.

  “I suppose we could do both… it’s only noon after all,” Mara mused.

  “How far away are we from the water?” I asked.

  Mara bit her lip. “Not far,
I don’t think. Just a few blocks that way,” she said and pointed. “Oh, there’s something cool I want you to see this way!”

  With that Mara led the way. Gemma and I followed along. I stared avidly around me. I loved this city already. The vibe, the smell, the heat.

  “Guess what that is,” Mara nodded to our right.

  I looked. There was an elaborate looking tower that was higher than the surrounding buildings.

  “I dunno… a tower?” I said. Gemma frowned.

  “Is that the lift you guys were talking about?”

  “Yep! We can go up it tomorrow or something.”

  “What? A lift? Where does it go?” I craned my neck.

  “It’s a bit hard to tell from here, but there’s a hill behind there. The lift takes you up to the ground level up there and saves you walking up the steep hill!”

  “Genius.”

  We kept walking down the busy street. I could hear a lot of accents and languages, not just Portuguese.

  “Oh, you two have to try these.” Mara stopped and darted into a cafe. Gemma and I exchanged glances and followed her.

  “Três pastéis de nata por favor,” said Mara to the shop attendant. The lady smiled and put three custard tarts into a small box. Mara brought them over to us and proudly offered up the box. I grabbed one. Gemma shook her head.

  “Sorry, Mar, I don’t like custard.”

  Mara smirked.

  “You’ll like this.”

  With a dubious look at me, Gemma took the remaining tart. I sniffed mine, and then took a bite. It was delicious. I grinned at Gemma who was studying the yellow and brown tart like it was something Tom had left in the fridge for months.

  “Ish really good,” I said through my mouthful of delectable tart.

  With a gulp, she took a small nibble. Then a bite.

  “Okay, that’s pretty good,” she admitted after she finished chewing.

  “I didn’t know you could speak Portuguese,” I said to Mara after I’d finished my tart.

  “I can’t. I just memorised how to order Portuguese egg tarts. And to count a bit. And please and thank you. That’s about it. Oh, and ¿Cuánto?”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “How much?”

  I laughed. Mara did enjoy her shopping.

  “Well, if you liked that, we’re definitely going out to Belem one day. They have the best tarts out there. Annie and I went out there. I literally inhaled five in a row.”

  “That good?” I laughed.

  “Better. I only stopped because I wanted to save one for later.”

  We continued walking down the street. I snapped a photo of a funny looking small yellow car that tourists were riding around in. We reached the waterfront and found a bench to sit on.

  “Is it the ocean?”

  “No, a river here. Ocean’s that way.” Mara pointed.

  “It looks like the Golden Gate Bridge,” Gemma said, looking toward the bright red bridge than spanned across the water. I agreed.

  We strolled along the waterfront for a little while, had a look in a few shops, and then decided to get lunch.

  Forty minutes later, with full stomachs, we continued on our way.

  “The Castelo de Sao Jorge, or Castle of Saint George for the English speakers amongst us,” Gemma said, “is a medieval castle. It was originally built as a Moorish stronghold, although the Celts, Phoenicians, Greeks, Carthaginians, Romans, Suebic and Visigoths also used the hill as a defensible outpost beforehand.” I looked back at Gemma. She was reading out of a small guide book. “It was a royal residence until the 16th century…” I listened while Gemma gave us a brief history of the castle, and looked around me, trying to soak up as much atmosphere as I could. The streets got narrower and steeper as we left the flat waterfront and entered an older looking neighbourhood.

  “According to this, the Alfama - that’s where we are now - was one of the few areas of Lisbon not destroyed in the great earthquake of 1755. The rest of Lisbon was rebuilt afterwards and is the ‘modern’ part.”

  “Modern? The modern part of this city is older than our country.” Mara laughed. “Strange thought.”

  I looked around us. The cobbled streets wound around - no cars could fit here, and every now and then I was reminded that this city was built on hills - a staircase would lead us to the next street.

  I tried to imagine living here, this being my everyday world. I wondered if these old houses had modern plumbing...

  We made our way up to the castle entrance, only having to backtrack a couple of times when we hit dead ends. Mara grabbed both our hands marched purposefully past a group of men who looked like they were selling handbags and jewellery.

  “Don’t make eye contact,” she warned us under her breath.

  One of the men tried to start talking to us, but Mara told him we weren’t interested.

  “What was all that about?” I asked in bewilderment.

  “They try to sell you all sorts of crap. It’s worse in Italy. I’m kind of surprised we didn’t get approached this morning in the plaza - when Annie and I were here last time, they kept trying to sell us drugs.”

  “What?!”

  “Yeah. So just... be careful. Ignore them if you can. Whatever you do, don’t let them put one of those bracelets on you, they’ll bug you until you give them money. I saw them do it to another girl last time.”

  I looked over my shoulder at the group of men. One of them saw me looking and started walking towards us, with a big friendly grin on his face.

  “Ummm...”

  “Geez, Bea, what did I just say?”

  Mara dragged us to the entrance of the castle, with a glare at the approaching man. We each handed over our money for the entrance fee and got our tickets.

  I gaped around me. A castle. A real castle. I loved castles.

  Growing up in a country where the oldest buildings are lucky to be over one hundred and fifty years old, castles had always fascinated me, and just old buildings in general. There was a pub near our place in London that had a sign on it saying it was built in 1668. It was a sobering thought, thinking of all the people over the centuries who had come to that very building, and wondering what their lives were like, their worries, their loves, their treasured memories. If only walls could talk.

  We were each given a small pamphlet detailing the history of the castle and a small map. I read mine with interest, although Gemma had already told us most of it on our walk here.

  We spent the next couple of hours wandering through the castle complex. I daydreamed about living in a castle. Waking up each morning in a big, four poster bed, doing... what did medieval ladies even do all day? Embroidery? Pray? Eat? I wasn’t sure what I’d do every day if I didn’t have any responsibilities.

  With my family background though, I’d probably be the scullery maid or something like that. I looked around the walls and tried to imagine life as a servant. I shuddered. Barely a moment to yourself. Always at the beck and call of someone else. Never clean? I shuddered again. Or was it just the English who had a reputation for an aversion to bathing? I shrugged, and followed Mara and Gemma, my hand trailing against the ancient wall. We rounded a corner in the castle grounds and I stopped in awe. The view over Lisbon from this vantage point was amazing.

  We sat down on a low stone wall, and looked out over the ancient city. The water sparkled below us under the bright blue sky, and the bridge that spanned the river really did look a lot like pictures I’d seen of the Golden Gate Bridge.

  “It really does look a lot like San Franscisco,” I said.

  “San Fran don’t have no castle!” Mara laughed.

  “They have Alcatraz,” Gemma pondered.

  “I think I’d rather live in a castle than Alcatraz,” I said.

  “Point to Bea.”

  We sat there admiring the view in silence for a while, until a noisy group of tourists came along and spoilt our tranquility.

  “Bloody tourists,” I muttered.

&nbs
p; “We’re tourists too,” Gemma pointed out.

  “Yeah… but… we don’t have bum bags!”

  “I think they call them fanny packs,” said Gemma.

  “Oh yeah,” I giggled. “They don’t have any idea how weird that sounds to us, do they?”

  “Fanny just means bum there. Not… vagina.” Gemma whispered the last word.

  “Why can’t you say vagina normally?” Mara laughed.

  “It’s… well… I didn’t want anyone to hear.” Gemma blushed.

  “Vagina!” Mara yelled.

  I laughed when two older ladies from the group of tourists frowned at us. We were probably ruining their tranquility.

  After only getting lost a couple of times, we stumbled back into our room at the hostel.

  “Ugh, this heat is doing me in!” I flopped down onto Mara’s bed. I couldn’t be bothered climbing up to my bunk.

  “Really? I love it!” Gemma was still on her feet, with what looked like far too much energy to me.

  “What time’s the pub crawl? Do you remember what he said?” Mara asked. She was staring out the window at the bustling plaza below.

  “Eight, wasn’t it? We should probably get some food first.” As soon as Gemma mentioned food, my stomach grumbled. Walking around all day sure did make me hungry.

  “Definitely food,” I said, rubbing my belly. “Remember the last time Mara drank on an empty stomach?”

  Gemma giggled. Mara scowled at me. I raised my eyebrows at her.

  “Yeah, that wasn’t pretty,” she admitted after a moment.

  “Can we just lie down for a bit first, though?” As hungry as I was quickly getting, I was tired. We’d gotten up so early thanks to Gemma’s paranoia, and Mara’s bed was very comfortable. I could happily just lie here for a while.

  Mara looked over at me from her station at the window, shook her head at me in mock despair, and then came over and crawled onto the bunk with me.

  “And you call yourself an Aussie,” she said. “You should go live in Iceland. Or Alaska. Or maybe even Antarctica.”

  “I don’t like it quite that cold…”

  Chapter Three

  New friends