When I arrived at Rhino Party Hostel two weeks ago, there were just three other volunteers: Brooke from Canada, Ciara from Australia, and Frederique from the Netherlands. That made us a group of four, including me. A couple of days later, Daisy (also from Australia) and Hekla from Iceland joined us, and suddenly, we were six. It didn’t take long for us to bond— within minutes, it felt like we’d known each other for years. Inside jokes were born, trust grew effortlessly, and memories were created at lightning speed.
Our shared room has seven beds. Six are occupied by people, and the seventh is a chaotic storage spot for clothes and bags left behind by a previous volunteer. It is cozy and alive with energy—until Thursday morning, when Ciara and Brooke leave. Even though we’d only spent a few days together, saying goodbye is harder than I expected. The next morning, with just four of us left, the room feels cold and strangely empty.
Two days later, Frederique l leaves too, and as I look around, the room seemed unrecognizable. In just a few days, it has transformed from a lively, bustling space to one of quiet and stillness. It’s strange how fast time has flown. Two weeks here felt like two days, yet the bonds I have made with the other volunteers – who I, now, call friends rather than ‘co-volunteers’ – feel so strong like I’ve been here two years.
Some days ago, I was alone in the room, facetiming, when Daisy comes in. I don’t think anything of it first, because we share the room, but she walks towards my bed and says: “I haven’t seen you all day, I just wanted to see and hug you!” A small gesture maybe, but I feel so loved by this girl who was a stranger a week ago and I can’t help the dopamine being released in my brain.
By day, I’m usually wandering around the city – climbing the hills they call streets and admiring the livelihood. Despite taking my camera with me everywhere, I haven’t been able to capture a lot of pictures I’m proud of. Somehow, my creativity is blocked, though this whole city feels like art to me.
The streets of Lisbon are coloured with people from early in the morning to late at night. Not only is the sun burning on my face, but the steep streets are testing my fitness, and the combination creates a glimmering moustache of sweat on my face. I rarely walk with a specific destination in mind, except for the occasional mission to go grocery shopping.
Everywhere I look, there’s a bakery or a restaurant that I want to try out, and I pin them all in a folder on Google Maps. I tell myself I need to be aware of my budget, but when I think about the hole in the hallway that is supposed to serve as our kitchen, I lose any interest in cooking. Breakfast is easy enough – some yoghurt and granola and fruit. For dinner, I either have microwave lasagna or Caesar salad.
During my little hikes, I pass a lot of cute shops. Local boutiques with exclusive collections and pink storefronts showcasing all kinds of jewellery. As a former shopping-addict, it’s very hard to look at everything and not take it home, but with my already overpacked 40L backpack, I’d have to leave everything when I go to my next destination.
Then there’s the tons of flea markets, small and big, too many to count. Every time I see one, I think of my dad, and I still look for Smurfs at every market. Every Tuesday and Saturday, there’s a big flea market called Feira De Ladra. Saturday morning, I go there for the first time, knowing that I’ll make that trip again, and spend almost three hours walking around.
That same afternoon, I meet Alexa, who I have a lot in common with (to the point that it gets a little creepy). Not only do we share a lot of the same interests, we also have oddly similar experiences. And then there’s the kicker: her birthday is 6/6, and mine is 7/7. Creepy or not, we quickly become friends, and soon we’re arranging our days to try and fit in a couple of hours to hang out. She even joins in on my solo shift on Sunday – thank you Alexa.
I am so sorry for the late and short post. I’ve been busy, but not the kind of busy I can write about. Between adapting to Lisbon (night)life, and working at the hostel, I find little time to write, or even to do things to write about. However, I do feel like I’m getting more accustomed to the lifestyle, and I hope to find more of a balanced rhythm (with more consistent posts) soon.
I promise there’s going to be another post soon (I have some complaining to do).
-Cels
CelsAway 
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