The Saint that is Sebatian

This poor man who I keep seeing in almost every art gallery eternally immortlised by depictions of being tied to a tree and pierced by arrows. He always looks so unhappy. This is a most beautiful town, I walked of the station and instantly wanted to live here tranquil bay and beach. We found our hostel many thanks to Marcelo's spanish, which was located in an ancient bull fighting court. The owner of our roost was classic. A fat, grimy man that greeted us smashed off his face, with some stain on his shirt, who still lived with his mother and smelt of 4 day old sweat and nicotine. We named him the Dirty Sanchez.

First on order was tapas and kalimotxo. Where we staying in a place surrounded by 200 bars, it was beautiful. We ate and drank, then ate more and drank even more. I've decided one day that I'm going to open a tapas joint at home, or at least have a tapas party with my non existant Brisbane friends. We found an awesome place for paella and found the elusive cheese stuffed spanish olives that made me first fall in love with Spain.

Again, it rained.

Then it was a big night out. I decided that it was tequila night, there was a strip of bars where I think we may have been the only non-locals and by the 5 bar I cant remember anything. Hazy recollections include. Buying a can of pistachios. €1 shooters that we bought almost every body we met. Some cool underground club that I cant remember how we got there, or where is was. meeting a random bunch of girls that took us a beach club. Where Cello decided to pour a drink on a man who bumped him, that ended up being a bouncer. We spent the night avoiding security, who were very angry. Then before going home, we had ourselves a little bull fight in our personal arena, caught on camera but lost forever.

We spent the next day passed out on the benches of the beach, we actually slept for an hour, it was a funny sight, and I had the greatest photo of the tour.

San Sebastion was where I bought my cool brown jacket that had a lining that Graz thought would make the best vest so gave me €50 for it. And honestly it did. He wore it everywhere. They were like one, the best love story you'd ever see. Soon to be tragically torn apart. But we did not know what lay in store in the evil that is Portugal.