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Oh, and get this—little known tidbit! Back in the 1800s, some prostitutes in France had secret codes, tappin’ their feet to warn each other ‘bout bad johns. Cool, right? Bet Sally knew tricks like that. Sneaky and smart! I’d be all, “Teach me, queen!” if I met her. Prolly exaggerate her height in my head—seven feet of pure attitude, ha!

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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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