In a few hours, I’ll be leaving continental Europe. After months of moving from place to place, always on the next train to the next city, the next hostel, the next place with the new language and the different food, I can barely believe it. I’m in denial, I think. I can’t believe it’s actually over.
Well, sort of anyway. I’m spending a few more days in London and then flying to China.
I spent my last night here at a hostel in Lisbon that was probably as different from any hostel I’ve stayed at as it could be. It’s probably the second smallest hostel I’ve ever stayed at, which lent it a perfect sort of intimate atmosphere. At dinner (the place has an in-house chef), about a dozen of us, half travelers half Portuguese, sat around the table talking about our homes, cultures, about Lisbon and Portugal. It was the perfect place, and the perfect way to end Europe.
a single tear just rolled down my cheek…have fun dude.