While not officially our last supper, this one certainly has a strong aura of finality.
We are back at the restaurant where we devoured six huge Lobster tacos during our first day on Isla Holbox, our final destination.
This time, we go for breaded fish and coconut shrimp accompanied by our favourite refreshing bebida; Horchata (rice water).
What if this is the last glass of delicious Horchata I drink? My mind is quick to turn this seemingly unimportant thought into one of the most emotional moments of our trip.
I think about how good I have felt these last three months; a stark contrast to many of the preceding months. Choked and on the brink of tears escaping, I realise this might be the happiest I have ever felt.
I’m unable to say this out loud to Jon as he chows down on one of my shrimps. I try, but my voice cracks and Jon’s face turns from sheer food induced bliss to anxious concern.
He holds my hand and says “It’s ok, just let it out”. I sense that maybe he has been thinking something similar so test the water…
“I think maybe we should go back and talk about it when we get to our room, I think I’m going to cry a bit, actually I think you’re going to cry a bit too”
“Oh really? Ah I hadn’t planned on crying today but ok, of course, let’s get the rest of your Horchata to go” he suggests.
We pay the bill and walk briskly in what has become a very stormy night (pathetic fallacy at its finest). Back at our room we lay down on the lower bunk with urgency and purpose.
“So what is it? Let’s hear it” he says with a hint of is it something I’ve done wrong…?
“Well, I’ve just been thinking about how this has been the happiest time of my life…”
Silence.
I turn to look at Jon and tears are cascading into his ears from the outer corners of his eyes.”Me too…I’m going to miss all of it so much”.
We lay there, in tears, completely overwhelmed by the magnitude and significance of this trip in our life and that it has come to an end…
We reminisce about all the amazing people we have met and connected with – I ponder how bizarre it is to make friends, and potentially never see them again in this lifetime.
We list our favourite experiences and manage to stabilise the tears until (weirdly) we remember the time we were in awe watching a big storm over the plains in Guatape, Colombia…sometimes the smaller moments are most beautiful.
We recite our biggest learnings and decide what we want to bring to our life in the UK; a big one being from Peru where we were inspired to better respect and enjoy Pachamama (Mother Earth).
We acknowledge that we may never get the opportunity to do this again, but that it has given us a huge appetite for travelling in this particular way…staying in hostels, making an effort with fellow travellers and locals, saying yes a lot and having adventures, being flexible and not always having a plan…
An hour has passed and we shed our final tears (of that day) over the conflict of wanting to do it all over again, yet feeling ready and excited to go home and see our friends and family.
We are absolutely buzzing for Mumma T’s puff pastry mini mince pies…honestly they are so delicious we might start crying again if we think about them too much.
Jammy 