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Published: April 24th 2010
P1020399 Friday, April 23
one of many
Hey! That's today! We woke early and had a quick breakfast at the hostel. We took the metro to Gare de Lyon and tried to get refunded for our original ticket to return to Besancon that were for Monday. They gave me a claims form to fill out, though I think I'll go to the SNCF office here and see what I can do. It seemed like we were home free on the ride to Besancon, until the Conductor announced that we would be delayed 20 minutes due to a fire near the train tracks in Dijon. Between broke-down buses, volcanoes, train strikes, faulty planes, metro accidents, and fires it really is a miracle that I made it back in one piece!
Needless to say, at approximately 1:15pm today, Cyntia and I set foot once more on Bisotine soil, and what a beautiful thing it was! The first thing I bought was some French cheese (concoillote and comte) and bread--the things that I had missed in Spain the most. And then I took the bus back to the CROUS. It was weird walking into my room. It seemed foreign and like a different time;
just some favorite images from the trip.....
a million years ago. I spent a good while cleaning and unpacking. Epilogue
Though it's nice to be back home (finally), life seems a teensy bit less exciting. Now that I've missed a week of class, exams next weeks are looming and I've got to start cramming tomorrow. However, this trip was an experience to remember, and it was all worth it, every penny, every minute!
Venice remains the most beautiful city I have every visited, with it's hidden passage-ways and sparkling canals. The Duomo of Milan was as impressive as cathedrals get, with it's confectioner-sugar-carved facade rising against the Italian skyline like a white peak. I will always remember Murcia packed with people, festive music, and colorful costumes during the Day of Sardines, and the beaches of the Mar Menor with their grey sand and broken windmill. Seville made a lasting impression with it's arabesqued arches and wailing flamenco song. Lagos was the town of obstinate cliffs, tangy sea spray, and buttered squid. Lisbon was breathtaking as the clouds lifted and a full rainbow flew above the horizon, reflecting off of the peacock's feathers, the wet lemon trees, and my eyes as I looked
loving his brown eyes
up into his. The winding streets of Toledo will climb forever through my mind, as a certain Senor de la Mancha halts his trusty steed at the water's edge and looks off into yellow hills, imagining windmills as giants. And Madrid. The city of grand plazas, impressive gardens, and guarded faces. An edge that became an unexpected friend.
It's seeing other corners of the world that inspires me, and maintains that spark of curiosity within my heart. It reminds me that there are many different walks of life, and many different ways to live, of which I am just one dotted line, ambling along to destination unknown (though perhaps now to the rhythm of a flamenco guitar).
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