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Showing posts with label Portugal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Portugal. Show all posts

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Beach 19

Photo by Hollie Go-Lightly


Dear Bitches,

Right. So Yours Truly in all her ultra fabulousness paid Beach 19 a visit. What? !! Listen, sweet-tarts, even this diva is not above a bit of cheek. And anyway, what’s a naughty girl to do in Lisbon. There’s only so much tiles a bitch can see.

So, anyway, this bitch and her escort… What? !! Yes, I hired a local gay personal tour guide. And let me tell you, it’s ferries, trains, and busses to get to Beach 19, not to mention a fair bit of walking in the sand, and since you all can’t use a map to find your way out of a shopping bag, your diva selves must simply use the service of a guide, either by hire, or by Gay Romeo! If your lesbian selves insist on going there on your own, see the link below.

So as I was saying, moi and her accessory tour guide ventured into Beach 19. The car park is by Beach 17 and I had to catwalk it all the way to 19 to find me some hunky uns. The old queens whose joints can’t handle the jaunt are trolling pretty much as soon as one gets out of the car park. One can walk on the beach and enjoy the foam under their toes, or, like me, zigzag their way between the railroad track and the bushes to see some … you know what. Without having to go very far into the bushes, I saw men having sex. Oh my eyes! It really wasn’t pleasant. From then on, I kept to the railroad.

I got there on a hot August Thursday and there were quite a few men about. Some good looking and some were delightfully naked. Some, you want to throw a giant towel to cover themselves with. Plenty of lesbians! Naked, tits hanging out, lesbians! Other than that, it was pleasant enough. The sound of the sea mixed in with the sound of frolics and cheers. That’s the beach part. Behind me were the bushes where men walked about, necks stuck upward like cranes. Some were gorgeous, but even that couldn’t mask an air of sadness and despair. How desperate and lonely it looks, craning a neck out for some meat. So I stayed where I was, by the sea, with the frolic-makers, the disc-throwers, the dog-walkers, the sun-bakers, and finally finished the first chapter of At Swim, Two Boys.


Till next time, air kisses,

Hollie Go-Lightly

Sunday, September 4, 2011

A Palacete Fit for a Diva

Photo by Hollie Go-Lightly


Dear Bitches,

You can continue to admire my resourcefulness. I found this boutique hotel in Lisbon that is indeed in keeping with our divalicous lifestyle - Palacete Chafariz de'l Rei. The fittings are grandiose, every wall and ceiling restored to its former glory with love and care. The hosts are eager to please. The location is not only central, but is in Alfama, my favourite district in Lisbon. The best part is that this boutique hotel is not well-known yet and so the plebs are generally well kept out. That's why I hesitate to tell you all about it - gotta keep the commoners out!

Until then, sweet-tarts. Kisses.

Hollie Go-Lightly