Well, I’m unsure where to start as it’s been a few weeks since I posted. I got back from a Southern Portugal road trip of 10 days with Jorge a couple of weeks ago.

We took off and drove to Lagos on the southwest side of Portugal to look and see what is so beautiful about this part of Portugal they call the Algarve. Well in a moment of stupidity, ignorance, or hitting “book it” after a glass of wine I booked our first hotel in a Teepee. But the website called it a “Luxury tipi.” Call it what you want.

The cost of the place was cheaper than any hotel I could find. But it was also outside Lagos town. Seems the world likes the Algarve’s so much you can’t get a 1-star hotel or a hostel under $100 a night.

Being that I’m supposed to be on a budget I thought Ide challenge myself and try and find hotels around $70 a night that are not hostels and are not shitholes.  The plan was to travel at least 9 days passing through Spain’s southern area of Seville, Cordoba, and or Granada as I’ve never seen that part of Spain. So, kill two places with one stone.

So, on my search I found this teepee place scrolling down to page 15 on Booking’s website as Ive discovered that sometimes there are hotels that don’t pop up in the first few pages that are cheaper and pretty decent.

Well, there it was. A “luxury Tipi” hotel page 15.  Monocarapacho was outside the city of Lagos but not far according to google maps. Hmmm, luxury and teepee in the same sentence were enough for me to view closer.

Apparently, it was also “eco-friendly” which is becoming more popular but can also mean your sharing the bathroom and a bed with strangers and hovering over a fire pit to stay warm at night.

Well, it did look quite nice inside, full bed, nice pillows, table, etc. The ad said, “your own patio, and there is a bar and common kitchen to cook.” Or choose to have breakfast and or dinner made for you by the hosts. Reviews were all 5 stars on booking. Cost: $80 night. $10 over my budget of $70 ok.

The ad did read “shared bathroom” way at the bottom. Uh with the owners or the public? It didn’t say. That gave me pause as I pee all night and I don’t want to wake everyone up flushing the toilet five times.  But it was late, and I was tired, did I say that already? Part of me said just do it, be adventurous! As if leaving my home country with great healthcare, a great job, and all my friends to live in a Spanish country where I don’t speak the language and live in a crappy apartment with no AC/Heat Isn’t adventurous enough.  That’s how my credit card balance jumped up because I’m always wanting to escape to places with nice beds, AC, and English speakers. Hence, I’m on a tight-ass budget now.

Our 5^th– 8 days were left to chance. Be spontaneous they always say. Book as you go.  It will be fun.

Well, that can mean two things; no hotels are available but high-priced ones for last-minute bookings or hope for a hostel with one bunkbed left to share with 15 youngsters and I’m afraid of heights.

But I like to plan. A lot. The American in me can’t let it go entirely, we like schedules. I’m living in Spain where everything is “no pasa nada.” Relax they say. ok, ok… I’ll act Spanish and relax. Besides, I can be spontaneous I decided.  This is how you learn things. Or just lie to yourself, it’s easier.

So, the first hotel was interesting. The “luxury tipi” I booked, first was nowhere to be found.  We couldn’t find it as it was on an “unknown road” of gravel per Google maps.  We only knew we were in Monocarpacho because of the faded sign off the highway. Either the satellite wasn’t working that day or the GPS was confused. But we kept following Google hoping it would eventually get us there. In our search, we viewed miles of a charmless landscape; dry scrubby bushes, an occasional loose dog, and abandoned structures off the roads. We never saw another soul to even ask if there were tipis around there.

Either way, we spent 40 minutes searching down narrow winding deserted dirt and gravel roads looking for tipis in the distance until we came to what we thought was a dead-end road in the brush with a lone golden-haired horse grazing nearby. Not a tipi in sight.  We stopped at what looked like another dead end and chose not to drive down it as it was too narrow for even one car, and we feared we’d never be able to turn around again for the umpteenth time. So we thought nope, another dirt road to nowhere, not goin.. I was getting frustrated, and it was hot, and I was sweating in the heat.

Where the F is this place?? How hard is it to find a damn tipi in the middle of nowhere? I snapped.  I was ready to give up looking for our eco-tipi and go to the town and cough up bucks for a hotel in the city, plus I had to pee.

We were at the bend of the dirt road and Jorge said ‘I’ll go check if it’s here. “Go fast,” I said. I have to pee, tipi or no tipi.  He looked at me wide-eyed. (I peed slightly in his car once because I can’t feel if my bladder is full since cancer, thanks to radiation.) So, I leaked. What a surprise right after he bought the thing too. So, when I say pee, he jumps. Poor guy.

He flew out and walked really fast down the bend of the road then waved back at me. It was there. He ran back, and we drove closer. Sure, enough there were overgrown vines and scraggly trees blocking the view of the owner’s home leading up to a whitewashed stone wall to the entrance.  A sign would have been nice “hidden tipis ahead, through the bushes, when ready to give up, keep going.”

To the right of the entrance was a gravel and dirt area for parking. There was an old camper, some tires, and a toilet sitting in the brush with dry grass growing in and around the toilet and tires. Hope that’s not my toilet for the night I said sarcastically.   So much for adventure and spontaneity. Hope the inside doesn’t look like the outside. I thought cautiously

Out came the owner a very thin tired looking young woman with kids screaming in the background. She hugged us right away. Then led us through her front yard which appeared to be a hoarder’s paradise which made me think I made a mistake. Uh oh, it looked a little like the parking area. Too late now, point of no return; she hugged us and now I feel obligated.

On the other hand, I gave her the benefit of the doubt, she appeared to be alone with two little kids, and since teaching English to five years olds here, I understand a lot more about managing them. You can’t.

We followed her toward the backyard of the house, ducking low branches past a small pool for kids, through another gate and it opened onto a large open expanse of gravel. Four huge tipis and one large round “yurt” (I think they call it in Mongolia) were to my right. The bathrooms to my left were above ground with wood doors and a shower in the middle. Ok, it’s definitely shared facilities.

There was an open kitchen tent behind us as part of the back of their house. It had a table and chairs and a counter with what looked like a real bar with beer on tap at one time but was now dusty with various knickknacks around it. There was funky artwork and items hanging from the roof and trees like something from my mother’s house.

There were two small fridges with beer and wine to drink under the honor system and/or to store your own food. There were several patio tables and chairs scattered about in front of the large gravel area with all the tipis in a semi-circle around it. And yes, there was a fire pit in the middle.

She led us to our tipi, which was much bigger than I imagined. It was cream-colored with a flap in front of the entrance. There were two plastic chairs and a hammock outside that was our “patio area.” There was a claw foot tub off the right of the door of the tent facing an open field of dry shrubs. I wondered is that what they meant by bath or shower? Shower in the outhouse, but carry water and pour your own bath in the open for all to watch? I thought it was a TIPI hotel, not a nudist tipi hotel.

She opened the tent flap and I had to bend down to 90 degrees to get in, uh oh, I wondered if I could stand up on the other side because what goes down can’t always get back up.

Inside there was AstroTurf for the floor, a large bed and small table with lamps, etc. it was quite lovely actually and looked like the photos.

But when I looked up the tipi was open slightly at the top where the support beams come together so I assumed that would be where the airflow was, and the rain and bugs could come in.  Then she explained the rules and said at night it gets cool, not to worry no AC needed. In the evening she mentioned they light up the area of the yard and the tipis and tents in “pretty colors” to make the atmosphere “magical” um with or without recreational drugs? I wanted to ask.

She then offered to cook dinner that night for 15 Euros each in case we were too tired to go out. Yes, we said as we already couldn’t find the place and at night we may never get back.

So, we settled in. I went to the outhouse bathroom, and it was a real toilet and very clean. Phew I worried it was gonna be a porta-potty or a hole in the ground. Ok, I can do this I thought. Outside was an old stark white plastic female mannequin standing next to the wall of the bathroom by a running sink with soap to wash your hands. Interesting choice of eclectic decoration I thought, perhaps to remind oneself to get naked before bathing? Or will she light up at night to lead you to the bathroom and sink?

I headed right for the outdoor kitchen/bar, grabbed a beer, and put my one Euro in the can. It was cold and after driving nine hours we were tired.

Later that evening after dinner with the owners, we meandered to the tipi to relax before bed. The whole patio outdoor area was indeed lit up. Stars and hearts and multiple Christmas lights dancing on the ground from a disco-like ball projected the images in slow movements onto the white tipis and trees and tables. So, this was the magic she spoke of. Ok. We went with it. I just wondered if it would go all night and if not, how would I find the bathroom in the dark with the mannequin.

Well, the wind picked up and we went to get ready for bed. I then immediately realized I needed to put my clothes and sandals back on and go brush my teeth. Things you take for granted in a hotel room with your own bathroom suddenly became very attractive.

So out I went. It was dark and the dancing projections had been turned off.  I followed the path I remembered from the daylight and suddenly a blood red night sensor light came on lighting up half the area from the tipi to the bathrooms.  Good thing I’m not color blind.

My sandals made a loud crunching sound on the gravel as I passed the yurt and another tipi. I wished the ad would have mentioned “bring a robe” you’re walking outside to the bathroom.” I didn’t have one, nor slippers so I knew it would be a long night dressing and undressing. Gee, great I thought flatly. What was I thinking? Although if I walked out naked, I doubt anyone would care as it appeared to be a very relaxed place if you know what I mean.

Sure, enough the wind picked up and it cooled off. The bed was quite comfortable, and I liked listening to the sound of the wind. It was vaguely comforting. Much more so than a cold hotel with people talking or doing other things in the room next to you. Hmm, this isn’t so bad I thought. Until I had to pee. The novelty wore off quick.

So, three times that night I got up, put my clothes on, and walked out to the outhouses.  It was a bit eerie in the dark, the wind blowing, the artwork hanging from the trees making scraping and tinkling noises. Isn’t this when Freddy Krueger comes out?

Alone hoping the red night light would come on sooner than the last walk to the bathroom, I walked a little faster hoping to set it off sooner. Then I heard some low whining sounds in the distance.  Oh hell, I hoped no animals were roaming around. Nothing like glowing eyes staring at you in the dark. I was feeling a little freaked out. Hell, where’s a flashlight when you need one?

Then I saw her; the white mannequin glowing in red from the sensor light leaning over slightly skewed between the sink and bathroom wall, one arm missing.  Jesus I nearly had a heart attack thinking it was a person there covered in blood staring at me.   Darn good thing I’m not stoned I thought. Maybe I should have been. “See what happens when you book an “eco-friendly” tipi hotel? And it’s not even Halloween. I’m an idiot.

I quickly stepped up the wood step into the bathroom and the inside sensor light barely came on. Shit, I didn’t have my phone to light the inside. Not that it would matter cause navigating your business with a phone in one hand isn’t a good idea.

Why don’t they have spare headlamps so you can be hands-free to keep from missing the toilet and falling on the ground? I thought irritatingly in my tired fog. Is that too much to ask? Listen, I’m old and my night vision is nearly gone, I can barely stay in the lines at night driving, Now I have to find a toilet in the dark. Not just any toilet, one shared with others. This is not good. Cause I’m not going to take a shower in pitch black either if something nasty happens here.   I’m sure they don’t want “missed toilet in outhouse, falls on ground in the dark” on their Booking.com reviews. Suggestion: headlamps outside the bathroom doors or book only during a full moon.

But too late I had to pee. I closed the door, yanked my pants down and felt for the toilet and squatted. Please God don’t let there be spiders in the bathroom like I saw in an outdoor hotel bathroom in Grenada years ago.  I never got over that. If I feel anything on my leg the whole place will hear me scream as I fly out the door pants down or not.

I peed faster than ever in my life. And it was only our first night there.

The next day I carried my phone with me in the dark, drank very little water, and only got up once.

Our next location was the “happy farm hotel” which was a little more to my taste. There were chickens and ducks wandering around and lots of wildflowers. But it was a real building with a kitchen and bathroom.  I sighed relief when we pulled up. No more outdoor red-light mannequins staring at me in the night for me in the future, plus it had lights in the bathroom. Score!  I’ll take chicken and ducks anytime as long as they don’t sleep in the bed with me and there are no Freddie Kruger risks.

Oh and yes the Algarve region is beautiful. From the more rugged surfer coast of Sagras to the whitewashed houses and villages lining the coast with the gorgeous cliffs overlooking the deep blue ocean.  This blog is too long to go into it all but it’s worth seeing. It is as beautiful as people say but unfortunately, some places are overrun with ex-pats now and the prices to buy anything are way out of the average person’s range because of it.

That is unless perhaps you can live in the hills, way out of the way of any of those whitewashed villages you see in brochures. Or maybe you could lease a tipi long term. I’m not sure.

I haven’t written Portugal off yet, but another visit another time may be in order if and when the cost of housing comes down then perhaps, I could consider it as a retirement location.

But for now, just go with it.

Spontaneous my ass.

Consider a headlamp on your next eco-friendly stay..

Pee pee and tipi don’t go together

Somewhere in Spain, and Portugal.