It’s almost comical how much you forget when you leave your home country for an extended time. Upon re-entry the effects of reverse culture shock are just that… a shock!
It seemed as if our flight was never going to leave Porto as we waited – and waited – to board the airplane. Scheduled to leave at 11:30 a.m. we saw the flight crew board the plane at 10:50 a.m. and we knew there was no way. And, 30 minutes later we were still waiting. Finally, we taxied down the runway at 12:30 p.m. and off we flew toward the United States. We were heading home, ahead of schedule, but for a very good reason.
A Return to Santiago de Compostela
After 35 days and 350 miles we walked in to Santiago de Compostela, Spain, on May 17, 2015. We were beyond tired and physically beat. The next day we witnessed the pilgrims mass at the Cathedral and garnered our certificates of completion from the pilgrims office. The day after that… we boarded a train for Porto. Our 48 hours in Santiago were not much more than a blur of exhaustion.
The Historic City of Coimbra
We were told the city of Coimbra was built on steep hills. I thought, surely they could not be steeper than the hills of Porto, right? Wrong. The historic City of Coimbra (pronounced co-eem-bra) is all about the hills and they are definitely steeper than those of Porto, and the cobblestone streets are brutal. By the time we boarded our return train my feet were screaming. But, would I do it all again? Absolutely.
THIS DEAL IS SOLD OUT!
Everyone needs to experience Las Vegas, at least once in their lifetime. It’s like no other city in the US, rising up toward the sky from the desert sands, where glitz and glitter are the norm. From the show rooms to the casinos, to the resort style pools and family friendly options, Las Vegas offers it all.
The Mosque of Cordoba
There are moments in time when one has to come to a complete stop to just take in said moment because one finds oneself in a place of perfection; a place so extraordinarily inspiring it takes ones breath away. For us, that moment happened when we stepped inside the Mosque of Cordoba. Never before had we seen such a place, and most likely never will we again.
As we pulled away from the parking lot at Vintgar Gorge, the shuttle van driver asked, “How was the gorge?” “Crowded!” I responded, “But beautiful.” He went on to explain that three years ago nobody cared about the gorge, and now, everyone wants to see it and he can’t figure out why.
Our train pulled away from Malaga on Sunday morning at 10:40 a.m. It had been ten days of rest and relaxation, eating our weight in tapas, drinking sangria and taking long leisurely walks along the waterfront and beach promenade.