And too quickly they come! I suppose I only expected this, but nonetheless am kicking myself for making the decision to stay so short and so long a time, at the same time. Does that make sense?
I feel lightyears away from Spain. When I finally cross back over the pond, I will not just be traveling in space but also in time. My life in Madrid feels like one of centuries ago. Why didn't I have this feeling when coming here?
This must have something to do with the fact that Spain is old-school. We walk down cobble-stone streets...we are religious about gathering on Sundays for eight hours of eating...we women don't shave our armpits always...we eat every single part of every single animal as if they (the animals) might disappear at any point in time...
Perhaps this isn't personal at all. Going to Europe really is traveling in time in it's own maaaagical way.
But then what am I talking about? It's so personal. Me da pena (it pities me, literally) to leave the US after submersing myself here again. Oh well, such is life. I'll be back someday! For now...looking forward to home-basing for three weeks or so in Cadiz and traveling a bit around the Costa del Sol. God knows I need it after "the coldest winter I ever spent", aka a summer in San Francisco.
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