I stopped back in Essaouira on my way Spain-ward. I wanted another hammam (still awesome!) and I also wanted to stock up on some stuff. I bought six kilograms of almond butter, three kilograms of black argan soap, two kilograms of dates (I knew the kids would love it all), a liter of olive oil and a ton of spices. I also bought a bunch of groceries (I was arriving to our mountainside villa earlier in the day than Sabrina and company and I wanted to have supplies to make dinner). I knew I had space for it all (barely) but what slipped my mind as I loaded it into my backpack was the weight of it. When I tried to hoist said backpack, I couldn’t lift it. I had to sit on my bum, put it on and then roll onto all fours. When I managed to drag myself into a wobbly semi-upright position my back was like, “wait, I don’t understand whats happening! Why! why!!”

Whenever any bus attendant or official tried to move my pack they would do a double take and stare back at me. On one train a young, burly Russian tourist that I had been chatting with offered to take it off the train for me and I noticed his knees buckle a little. He really stared back at me. At least I wasn’t worried about anyone running off with it. But the thought of navigating buses, hostels, trains, and a ferry for 1028 kilometres with a 33 kilogram backpack (we weighed it at the hostel in Essaouira) made me feel a little panicky. I decided to just relax, breathe, take it slow and steady, and that’s what I did.

As per my backs request, I questioned myself as to why exactly I bought so much and all I could come up with is that I just get so excited and wrapped up in how much fun it is to share the enjoyment of foods and pleasures of other places. I realize that my extremes can appear almost unhinged at times. Maybe it is a little, but it is also the weight of my love. And that is a weight I’ll gladly carry.

My back gradually accepted the load with glassy-eyed resignation and mostly without complaint. But I sure was happy to board the last bus.

I arrived in Spain in our villa yesterday afternoon! The views are stunning (pictures and more next post). I had dinner on the stove and was eagerly awaiting Sabrina, Ben, Little Ellie, and Ben’s parents, Jen and Fraser. They had landed in Madrid (sadly their luggage didn’t arrive with them), had rented a car, and drove the six (plus) hour drive. The small blind, hairpin turns up and around the mountains were absolutely crazy (I experienced them on the bus) and I tried not to worry. It was almost dark! And then I saw their headlights slowly making their way up the narrow bumpy driveway. It was a joyful and teary reunion.