After a couple of rickety train rides we had arrived in Lagos, which as far as we knew, was a popular beach town which more or less marked the south-west corner of Europe. Walking through the town to our accommodation we quickly found, by listening to the accents, it also marked ground zero for hoards of English and Aussie tourists. It wouldn't surprise us if they actually outnumbered the locals.
We scored on the accommodation front, a large dirt-cheap room with an ensuite (a rare luxury!) which cost less than the dorms in most cities. Even better, we were close to the best pubs and beaches.
The town was typically strewn with white concrete houses and terracotta tiled rooves, a perfect accompaniment for the hot weather and beach lifestyle. An overly friendly hostel worker in Lisbon had tipped us off as to the best beach of the crop in Lagos, and he was on the money. Our day at Praia de Dona was probably the most spectacularly serene moment of the trip, perfect weather on a small beach with a bar but heavily secluded by surrounding cliffs. We could've spent a week there alone.
The following day saw us check out an inferior beach before Barry indulged in watching some of the World Basketball Championships at a friendly local bar. Meanwhile, Elle finally braved the language barrier to get a haircut. Oddly enough, the hairdresser was Russian, not Portugese.
We finished our weekend in Lagos, realising it would be the perfect place to relax in for a much longer stay.