We're at the airport on Sal, sitting in a cool and gently breezy cafe on the sparsely populated second floor of the terminal. We just had tasty tuna salad sandwiches, and Ian is just leaving to meander around the modest shops, in search of a magazine, or maybe a newspaper, or maybe a book, or maybe some other mild entertainment yet unknown.
We seem to have lost our drive for travel, which is not a bad thing. So far in this trip we have accomplished every goal we knew had, with the exception of actually setting foot on São Nicolau, which we'll do after our short flight from Sal in a couple hours.
We are relaxed, comfortable, unhurried. We have no expectations or hopes or needs for the last leg of our trip, so we're free to experience events as they unfold.
It's an exceedingly restful place to be.
one-fingered on my phone