Just before the leaving the ache of love can be so strong and powerful. Our breakfast this morning made me miss him, even before I had left.
And now the car is pulling up. They are putting my rucksack into the boot and I cling to him for one last embrace.
"Meet me in Brittany!" he shouts as the car pulls away.
Kilometres are flying by my window as the first leg of my journey begins from Luz to Santander. West towards the Atlantic at Biarittiz, then crawling along the verdant Basque coast, entre mer et montagne, south across the border and down across northern Spain. Then on an overnight ferry to Plymouth tonight and a much needed few weeks of rest with my family in Dorset. Later Brittany.
Already anticipating the first cup of Earl-Grey tea on arrival at my folk's place in two days time...
Ben works away from home for three days each week and I still hate it when he leaves. I've got used to him not being here, and actually enjoy the time to myself, but I still hate saying goodbye. I should be used to that by now!ReplyDelete
Have a lovely break in Dorset!
Oh hello there!ReplyDelete
Like you, I find the hardest moment is always the actual parting. Once that's over with, it's not so bad! (As long as it's not for three months at a time as it used to be for us!) xx