Woke up early today, in the middle of the mess of luggage that had been mailed from Alicante to meet up with me in Santiago. Spent the morning packing and drinking wine – we didn’t finish it last night, and how can we waste that Last Delicious Spanish Wine?

Before heading to the airport we had time for a few more lasts. Last walk around Santiago. Last visits to Spanish jewelry stores (looking for an engagement ring a little more permanent than the now-wilted daisy.)

Last small talk in castellano. Last Spanish breakfast. Last tortilla española and café con leche.

It was the Last Fresh Squeezed Orange Juice that did me in and made me cry. (Or maybe it was the morning wine – Last Appropriate Midday Drinking.)

After all that we finally did get on the plane, and left Spain behind to fly north to Dublin. It was cold and rainy, because it’s Ireland. I forgot how wet and cold rain actually was, or that sometimes you really can’t just wear sandals and put on a scarf and be warm enough. But we found the pub recommended by one of our Irish pilgrim friends, and we drank Guinness with the Irish grandpas. (Who are actually harder for me to understand than the Spanish yayos.)


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