On the penultimate day of quite a long trip, you would think feelings of either relief or devastation would be passing through me. Strangely, neither emotion has made an appearance, and my casual approach to completing my journey seems to be ticking people off. The nerve!
It seems I missed the memo that the ending of a trip must be accompanied by fanfare and dramatics. People are oddly perturbed when I don't tear up at the idea of leaving them behind or burst into sobs of joy because I'll see my friends back home. Don't worry (dear friends), I do love and miss you, but does it really bother you that much that I don't base my entire existence around your presence in my life? Really?
Seriously. You're not that great.
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| Uruguayan morning tea- another thing I'll miss |
What I have missed, and what I am going to miss is food. I miss home cooked meals so badly that my first may leave me in fits at the dining table. I miss baking, I miss cooking, I miss the cheap Indian place near my house and I miss my normal supermarket. But my god I'm going to miss Argentinian icecream. Holy crap! This stuff's so good it would make Adriano Zumbo say “holy crap this stuff's so good”. (Yeah, the Z-man and I are tight)
What I won't miss is the smell of mate. Mate (the E is audible) is a herbal tea everyone here drinks at every possible opportunity. It's foul. The smell haunts me in my sleep. Hate hate hate hate hate.
But you know- it's cultural, so I guess I'll have to pretend I miss that, too. Otherwise more strange looks from fellow backpackers will result. Jeez.
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