Today was a day of lasts.

Last full day in Spain. Last menú del día. Last tapas. Last cheap, delicious wine and cheese and olives.

It was also my Last Risk of Death Due to Spanish Safety Regulations. 5 years ago I visited Santiago for a weekend – definitely a different experience, coming in by train from Ávila instead of on foot, younger and less accustomed to Spain and travel in general. While I was there, I rode the ferris wheel on the top of the hill in the center of the city – tall and incredibly fast and a little rickety. It’s still there, still somewhat creaky-looking, and since I was ballsy enough to ride it the first time, I decided I was ballsy enough to ride it a second time. So I did. It wasn’t bad. I don’t know if it has gotten less terrifying, or if I’ve just gotten tougher.

We wanted to have our Last Spanish Picnic with our Last Wine and Last Cheese (Last Drinking Alcohol in Public) but the park was too crowded (Last Spanish Outdoor Party) so we ended up having a picnic in our room at the pensión. After all that aprovecharing and all those goodbyes, I was exhausted and couldn’t even stay awake to finish the wine.



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