Thursday brought the first gift I bought for myself. On the shelf of a store was a shoe for 17 euros, nothing more. I stepped inside and into the pair to see if the fit was fine or despaired. A camino through the store reassured me some more until a sonrisa cut thru my face. My hand in my pocket forth fetched a wallet and out came the twenty to pay. Go figure Carlo named his store D’Carlo and sold me these shoes in his name.

I digress from the rest and on to Oporto long after on a bus ride as long as the plane. I slept through the torment of my ears popping and nausea of changing altitude as we climbed up the mountainous range. As we slid across the divide between Spain and the side of Portugal we cheered and proclaimed our excitement to the heavens and Señora Levin took snapshots of signs for the SPC page.

Pedro conducted the bull of a bus though the streets with no fuss and soon we were upon the hotel. We funneled inside for a spell and a meal and assignments for rooms for the night. The night came and went and after breakfast at 10 we left for a four hour tour. Age was everywhere and still the same dirt from whence the conquistadors first walked the earth.

Home sweet home to the hotel to reflect and to dwell on the strangest place I’ve been on the earth.

We burned through the hours and soon we saw towers of cathedrals we all recognized. The feeling of home washed over in waves and I smiled to see Salamanca. I returned to my family with dulces for after dinner and we partook in un partido a la plaza.