Birds chirp outside the cracked window as the sunshine rises to meet the noisy planes that are preparing to land only two miles away. I listen to those planes knowing that in 21 hours I will be on one that takes me home. Since I’ve been up with friends every night until early morning, I decided I wouldn’t pay for a bed tonight when I likely won’t use it. So, as I must check out at noon, I am sitting here in the sleeping dorm and perfecting, for one last time, the inside I my back pack. Sweaters rolled and squeezed into the bottom. Long sleeves or dark on top of that. Tank tops. Two dresses. Shorts. Jacket. Pajamas. I am wearing my only pair of jeans. I think I can make everything fit with room to spare. The last few weeks I’ve been tossing things out and perhaps I’ve finally evened out the “in/out” ratio.
Last night around 9, four of us sat around a table drinking some beer and talking. Well they were talking, having a boring conversation, and I was just listening. It was in Arabic and sounds amazing. Suddenly, one of them said “let’s go to the pool. It’s your last night here so let’s do something crazy.” We swam in the hostel’s pool, just three of us, until an hour past the “pool closed” time. Tired and drunk, the boys decided hair cuts and laundry needed to be done. After the midnight haircut, we sat in the laundry room and talked, or listened, and decided we really will miss each other.
I will have to find a new category to file my posts under until the next time I feel “travel” is appropriate. When I land on Sunday evening, if I land, I am likely going to be greeted by the flood waters taking over Calgary. Those and my sister. She will greet me as well. However, just because the travel ends doesn’t mean the adventure does.
My friend gave me a journal before I left. With 11 pages left to fill I am writing as much random things as I can. A few weeks back I found a sticky note she out in for me. It had a quote from Tennessee Williams that said “life is partially what you make it and partially what it is made by the friends you choose.”
Thank you, to every one I met in the hostels and the streets, on the pub crawls we became friends on or in your home where you graciously hosted me. 2013 has been a life changing year. I wouldn’t have made it through the first half without every stranger’s smile in Barcelona that first week or the kindness that took away my ideas of big scary Los Angeles three weeks ago. To the sunburns and tans, the songs and the quotes, the friends and the creepers- occasionally one and the same, thank you for how your helped make my life. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to start this decade.
Now I have a bag to finish packing, a journal that needs updating, and the Californian sky that needs a last few hours of falling into.
Have a fabulous day, world.
All my young love, Sarah.