“It’s amazing how time flies.”
Cliche, I know. And, to be honest, I really hate to begin this post with such an overused phrase – but I really am shocked at how quickly the last eight days of my life flew by.
Somehow, I spent seven days in the Algarve of southern Portugal. Did I accomplish anything of significance? To be honest, no. I drank extremely cheap beer. I ate cheap, fresh seafood. I stayed in very nice, very moderately priced accommodation (the cheapest I’ve found since I left home). I wandered the streets of Portuguese towns. I took walks along the beach. I drank very dark, very strong Portuguese coffee. And, most importantly, I had seven days of sunlight. After spending four months in Ireland – and then having traveled to Norway and Edinburgh – some vitamin D from the sun was much needed. Also, I’ve decided since leaving Portugal that the Algarve is the perfect destination for cost conscious backpackers in the middle of January.
I’m currently in the south of Spain, in Sevilla. I arrived here yesterday evening. The plan was to arrive sooner, but as I’ve figured out in the last four months plans don’t typically hold true with Brian and myself. Sevilla, from what I’ve gathered, is a wonderful city; to me, it seems to be the quintessential Spanish city – mind you, this comes from very little knowledge of Spain or its cities.
I sat down in my hostel lobby with the intentions of filling you in as to what the last week of my life looked like … pictures and all. The other travelers who were here didn’t allow me to get that far into my post – conversations about Spain, about traveling, about the UK, and, I guess about living ensued.
I’ll be back with more soon. Until then, all the best,