Spanish days are long in the summer months, but finally, as I strolled along the plazas, I could see the sun beginning to fall behind the taller buildings of Madrid, beckoning me toward my hotel, almost like my Dad's whistle that rang through the neighborhood on summer nights of my childhood, signaling it was time to come home. Tomorrow morning would come too soon, when I would hoist my suitcases into a taxi and go to el aeropuerto, to begin my journey home. The thought brought tears to my eyes, but I pushed them back, as I was determined to enjoy my last night in Spain. In Spain.... In Spain.... In Spain...
In Spain, my adventurous spirit soared!
In Spain, I tried everything I wanted to try.
In Spain, I traveled everywhere I wanted to go.
In Spain, I met new friends who quickly became mi familia para siempre.
In Spain, possibly for the first time in my life, I could feel and sense my roots, recognizing mi gente, in the gestures, accents and mannerisms of the beautiful Spaniards.
In Spain, I was showered with sites, smells, tastes and experiences that will live in my heart, soul and mind forever.
Reluctantly, I boarded the train back to La Puerta del Sol, where I lingered as long as I could, finding people to talk to, things to see, gelato to eat, anything to put-off going back to the hotel, if only for just another moment. I walked slowly through the cobblestone streets, breathing deeply as if perhaps I could somehow "keep" the smell of Spain in my chest and lungs.... I lingered at Plaza Mayor, taking photographs with my eyes, swearing never to forget a single moment... ...and for the last time (on this particular adventure, anyway), just as I had done on my first night in España two months ago, I strolled home along the ancient, magical, Spanish streets (las calles de España) that I've come to know and love so well...
¡Te echaré de menos, España! I will miss you dearly!