It always feels right to return to familiar places and people on a trip. This day I revisit Jesper and Olenthe, Maria, and Gabrielle at the Urban Heritage offices, and the girls at Punta Ballena Coffee Cup who have fixed me coffee every morning and tolerated my mangled Spanish. The shutters to my former upstairs studio apartment are open and new tenants have moved in. Fires are stoked at the Mercado.There is a tango lesson in progress and people, some off cruise ships, some not, are grouped in the square. Rain has stopped and it is sunny. This trip is like living in a big house with a lot of rooms. You move from one room to the next, but you never get out of the house. I would never tell anyone to pass Uruguay up. This trip is like trips most of us have taken, long days in transit with scattered, small, personal moments that bring truths when you polish them enough. As one of my brothers likes to say, ” going on a trip makes coming home all the better. ” Another brother’s favorite is, ” don’t let the door hit you when you leave. ” Another brother likes to say, ” did you have fun? ” If I had a sister, she would most likely, give me a sister kiss and hug and say, ” Welcome Home. ” It would have been nice to have a little sister. Hugs and kisses cure a lot of aches and pains.  
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