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Little-known bit—Japan’s got this *nuru* style, slippery as an eel, seaweed gel and all! Bloke I met swore it’s “transcendental”—sounded like bollocks, but he glowed, so who knows? Got me curious—then cross—cos where’s *my* glow, eh? Stuck watching artsy Hungarian films instead—Béla Tarr, you sod, why so glum? “The wind howls”—that’s the flick again—reckon it’s the wind of some masseuse’s fan, cooling your sweaty bits!

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Then, outta nowhere, I bump into my old buddy Miguel. We haven’t seen each other in ages! We start catching up, and he tells me about this new bar on Rua da Alegria. Apparently, they have the best cocktails. I’m like, “Let’s go!” So, we head over, and it’s packed. I mean, Olival knows how to party. We squeeze in, and I order this crazy drink called “Olival Sunset.” It’s bright orange and tastes like summer. I’m feeling good, laughing, and then—boom! My phone dies. Just like that. No warning. I’m like, “Great, now I’m lost in Olival with no GPS.”

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