It was Carnival time in Portugal last week. This basically meant that everybody looked forward to a couple of extra days off. Except the lawyers who only take time off work to come to English classes and the students who get about three weeks off.

A few random blokes decided to wear 'costumes' around the city. These ranged from decent, fairly professional efforts to ridiculous drag outfits obviously put together from the wifes cast-offs. This did provide us with a few moments of fun as we thought about what it would actually be like to be a real transvestite at Carnival. Would everyone be congratulating you on your outfit? Asking you where you found the gear? You could spend the whole year thinking that nobody knows your secret; that you have fooled the world into thinking that you are really a women, only to find that you hadn't been tricking anyone. The conversation surreally concluded with us deciding that trannies probably dress like men for Carnival, thus leading us to eye every non-costumed man that entered the bar with suspicion.

Anyway, to celebrate, we decided that a mini-break was in order. We visited a beautiful walled town north of Lisbon called Obidos. If nothing else, it gave me more reasons to be glad not to be in England. The bus to and from the town was cheap, clean comfortable and regular. Obidos itself, despite being a big tourist attraction, was neither overly expensive or excessively tacky. The place was described to me eloquently beforehand by students. Their descriptions included "charming", "delightful" and "nice". I couldn't agree more. They also have a local Licquor called Ginja that is made with cherries. Although it wasn't really my cup of meat, it did come in a chocolate cup that you can eat afterwards. Which saves on the washing up.

On the way back to Lisbon, we visited another coastal town called Peniche. Surrounded on three sides by beaches, it may have been more wise to visit this place a little later on in the year because it was freezing! Even so, it was worth a visit, even though the hotel that we stayed in bore more than a passing resemblance to Alan Partridge's Travel Lodge. It also boasted the most incompetent waitress I have ever encountered. Words could not describe her ineptitude. It pains me even to think about her. Good times.