Hello! Currently writing this from a Costa Coffee in Porto, Portugal (very authentic of me, I know) where the wifi is strong, the coffee comes in mugs the size of bathtubs, and the armchairs are plentiful. It’s pleasantly grey and drizzly outside- the perfect morning to work on recounting the last…10 days? Twelve days? Something like that.

My time in Spain passed by in a whirlwind of social activity. Nights out, late mornings, meals and day trips and visits with new friends. Hiking, flamenco shows, and free museums. The days were flavored with rich, vegetarian paella, Tinto de Verano (my Spanish drink of choice-a concoction composed of red wine and bubbly, European lemonade), and churros. The country somehow felt like the opposite of anxiety. I still can’t quite find the word to capture its energy. Barcelona was magical and I loved it so much I extended my stay from three nights to six.

And now I’m in Portugal! I would write more, but I’m a little brain dead this morning (I’m blaming the bright overcast of clouds). After all the socializing in Spain- I really rarely had a moment to myself- I’m a bit fried and am using my time in Portugal to reset. Initially I was going to write this post about the positive lessons learned from major blunders (like how I missed my first bus from Madrid to Porto by showing up at the wrong station), or even just my first impressions of Portugal, a country that somehow feels remarkably familiar to me, but I don’t think I’d do either justice today. I just keep writing and rewriting and deleting. So maybe tomorrow! But I am alive! And going to go read some poetry. I hope everyone back home is staying warm!