12.16.2012 - 12.16.2012
On Friday night after walking two miles in the thick, black heat to wait for 3.5 hours on a wooden bench in the ferry terminal, I wondered why we ever thought it was a good idea to take the 12:30 am ferry to Granada. But then we arrived in Granada just as dawn broke, and the relative ease with which we found a place to stay buoyed our spirits enough to carry us through the rest of the day. The hot, sticky day whose blessed morning coolness lasted not long enough.
There is some pressure to record everything, to remember it all. As if some debt is owed to the uniqueness of traveling such that we may live our entire lives in an indistinguishable blur, but if we lose or waste one moment of travel it's a damned shame. And thus I tell myself if you can't take a photo then at least make a mental snapshot so later you can gloss it up with words and much later you can say, Oh yes, I had almost forgotten, and then go soft-eyed and grateful about what a full life you've led.