Driving down a South Florida street, I pull over and double park to quickly hop out and pick up a takeout pizza. Lots of room for other cars to pass easily on either side, and I’ll really only be a second but when I open the door a car comes up next to me and yells, “You fucking dumbass!!!” In that moment I’m instantly taken back to the sun soaked summer days bombing hills and lying on the hot white block chunks of marble that make up almost all the sidewalks, and to those enchanted nights of scrambling around dark medieval corridors navigating only by moon light, and the non stop laughter of half of your group that’s gone on a little ways ahead. It just made me think of how this “you fucking dumbass!” Interaction just wouldn’t happen in that magical place, and that place I speak of is Portugal. In Portugal, they would say, “Oh, you’re running into the store? I’ll watch your car for a minute for you” or they see you coming out with the pizza and insist you sit and have a beer, relax, and stay a while. Stay and let the doorman tell you all about the best local surf spots and recount tales of his every couple years’ trip to Nazaré for a chance to drop in on a skyscraper made of raging water.
We started the trip in Lisbon with a solid crew, not necessarily all teammates but some were. Mostly old friends but not all. After a couple hours though, even some of the guys I had just met for the first time became instant brothers. This was my first real trip back skating since I had severely broke my arm and I’m getting older in general. I wasn’t totally confident yet that I would be doing much stacking, so I decided to bring my camera and even if I couldn’t really skate I’d still be having fun shooting everyone. To my pleasant surprise, I was able to skate a lot better than I originally thought, and then also all the guys absolutely shredded day in and day out, resulting in tons of awesome photos.
We would set out in the morning with no real plan other than to explore far and wide all day, finding so many amazing spots and joking at every 55 stair ride on grind that “Hey that’s that Deedz rail” but then sometimes it really actually was! When one of the guys would get into a trick battle at a spot we would all gradually sit and hang out and watch and smoke cigarettes. In between cheering a close attempt or a miraculous escape we would scoop tins of sardines with chips and use our pants as napkins, a couple communal cases of cheap beer always within arms reach. This is how we spent most of the days. All the passerby’s wouldn’t really mind what we were doing and some of the neighborhood kids would ask to borrow our boards and scurry around the plazas while we hung out.
At night for dinner we would be the biggest loudest table at the restaurant, which was usually made up of 6-7 four tops mashed together into one long rectangle. All the food and drinks were family style, passed around making sure everyone gets to try all the best things and no one ever really worried about the check. We were the table some people would probably hate, or the table some people would wish they could come join us. We were the fun table for sure. On more than one occasion after the meal the wait staff would bring out a bottle of their local delicacy and do some free shots with us.
We then proceeded down south to the Algarve region. Valenti behind the wheel and DJ Pat Stiener on the ones and two playing a wide range of aux burners from nostalgic-retro-throwback-dance hits to contemporary Bushwick Shoegaze. On the highway staring out at vast vineyard after vineyard with patches of huge colorful bubble letter graffiti on any random sections of concrete available. A few hours later we arrived in the main town of the Algarve, and it seemed to be comparable to a tropical Coney Island but totally abandoned. We were there apparently in the off season and basically everywhere was closed, the streets were lined with unlit neon signs, locked doors, the absence of hoards of red faced British tourists, and a bunch of skate spots that we in turn wouldn’t be getting kicked out of. It was kind of perfect actually. Our Airbnb there was a large residence, a manor some would say. Pool, hot tub, ping pong, WiFi in every room… the works. Every night since all restaurants were closed we would make a huge BBQ from chef Brian Scherer and play cards with rainbow pasta as poker chips and joke into the wee hours.
These were the days, they were long, and they also went too fast. I just feel truly lucky to get to still go on these skate trips and make memories experiencing these places and cultures with friends. Thanks for coming along for the journey too, and see you on the next one!
Shoutout to Igor at Estar magazine in Lisbon for all the love!
