Hello, Portugal, Soy Sydney

I didn't expect Portugal to be quite so awkward. By this, I mean that I didn't expect to feel so awkward in Portugal. The only reason I say this is because whenever I was spoken to in Portuguese, my natural reaction is to respond in any language but English (the language that they apparently prefer). Luckily, I broke myself of the habit of responding in Spanish by the end of the first day. (Reasons for why this is such a good thing are to follow.)
Anyway, for the nitty gritty details: overnight buses, no better than overnight planes. No worse, but no better... actually maybe they are worse: the buses going from Granada to Lisboa do not have onboard restrooms. Gah! So that means that we had to get out at the coldest bus stop in the world (an exaggeration, I know) while our driver had a smoke and coffee.
At one point the change in the veolocity of the bus alerted me that we were stopping. It was dark, I had been sleeping, was not wearing contacts, and was curious about where in the world (Iberian Peninsula) I was. I looked out the windows, saw some buildings, and couldn't read the signs. So, I put on my glasses, looked out the window, saw some buildings, and still couldn't read the signs. We had arrived in Portugal.