EdenInAGarded
New member
One time I was staying on this great beach in Portugal. maybe one hour west of Lisboa. I was staying there for maybe a 2week total and everything was going great with me and the gang for the first week. parties every night, wonderful fires and drugs. it was a public beach so we were very tidy and cleaned up before the morning. there was a great dumpster diving area maybe 20-minute walk away and we were able to feed all 4 men, 2 galls and 2 dogs. THIS WAS PARADISE.
But hear me out. it all went to shit in one fucking night.
I guess the word that foreign travelers got out to the locals because before sundown there were some ass hole locals who started coming to us drunk asking for all the worst drugs, getting mad when we told them to fuck off.
remember this is a public beach, we can't technically stay there but the owner of a beach bar told us he would back us if anything happens with the pigs.
So the locals and there were quite a bit that passed by in one hour, started partying on our beach. this in of itself didn't bother us, what did was how they did it. broken bottles, needles, trash.
remember this is a public beach, so I got angry as anyone should when they hear glass breaking close to the soft Atlantic sand. i then walked calmly to the guys who were around the broken bottle. I guess the thought I was joking around because they fucking giggled at me (about 3-4 grown ass drunk 30-year-old men) when I told them to pick their shit up and GTFO. So I lost it, my guys, I took the biggest guy, which is still not very big, because cowards are not very strong in general. I grabbed him by the neck and collar and yelled at him in french as harsh as I could.
Believe me or not but people started leaving the beach, including them who did very fast.
anyways. somehow they shared the word that we were to be fucked with. because for the next 3 days people would come and walk around our camping site. luckily we had dogs keeping watch so they never got very close.
Hear me out. on the last night, a bunch of them got the guts to walk past our dogs and start fucking with our tents.
I kid you not! i sleep next to my spring-loaded knife when i am in this sort of situation every night. and this time the punk had the guts the open my tent to snoop around.
i swear to god, that could have been my last day as a free man because my knife was at his neck for the next 30 minutes which were a blur until my Australian friend Charlie the hippy stopped and calmed me.
That was the last night I ever stayed at that beach.
But hear me out. it all went to shit in one fucking night.
I guess the word that foreign travelers got out to the locals because before sundown there were some ass hole locals who started coming to us drunk asking for all the worst drugs, getting mad when we told them to fuck off.
remember this is a public beach, we can't technically stay there but the owner of a beach bar told us he would back us if anything happens with the pigs.
So the locals and there were quite a bit that passed by in one hour, started partying on our beach. this in of itself didn't bother us, what did was how they did it. broken bottles, needles, trash.
remember this is a public beach, so I got angry as anyone should when they hear glass breaking close to the soft Atlantic sand. i then walked calmly to the guys who were around the broken bottle. I guess the thought I was joking around because they fucking giggled at me (about 3-4 grown ass drunk 30-year-old men) when I told them to pick their shit up and GTFO. So I lost it, my guys, I took the biggest guy, which is still not very big, because cowards are not very strong in general. I grabbed him by the neck and collar and yelled at him in french as harsh as I could.
Believe me or not but people started leaving the beach, including them who did very fast.
anyways. somehow they shared the word that we were to be fucked with. because for the next 3 days people would come and walk around our camping site. luckily we had dogs keeping watch so they never got very close.
Hear me out. on the last night, a bunch of them got the guts to walk past our dogs and start fucking with our tents.
I kid you not! i sleep next to my spring-loaded knife when i am in this sort of situation every night. and this time the punk had the guts the open my tent to snoop around.
i swear to god, that could have been my last day as a free man because my knife was at his neck for the next 30 minutes which were a blur until my Australian friend Charlie the hippy stopped and calmed me.
That was the last night I ever stayed at that beach.
