282/365

Perhaps the biggest surprise of the trip came when we walked downstairs to the hotel lobby at 6am that first morning only to discover complete darkness. We tiptoed to the front doors, and found them locked. The overnight guy let us out, and told us to knock when we came back. How is it possible that not one coffee shop around the plaza was open? We stopped at OXXO and the guy gave us two cups of black coffee to go through a little slide window in the door. And then we returned and stepped lightly back up the stairs to our room to wait until it was time for breakfast.

My husband and I have entered a new season, traveling by ourselves, without kids. It seems so simple. We only have to agree with each other. We choose where we eat. And it seems so cheap to just feed two. We can wander without having to explain ourselves to anyone else. We only have the other to blame for being late.

We haven't had this privilege often in our life together. When we met, a blond blue-eyed and very chatty three year old came on our second date and sat in the middle between us on the way home, holding my hand. By 11 years later, five more people had joined the ranks. Over these nearly thirty years of knowing each other, we've been privileged to travel often and wide, but rarely by ourselves. We've looked at the world through "what would everyone enjoy" lenses. Now, mostly, it's just the two of us.

Still, I wait while he reads every word on the signs, and still, he stops when I pause to shoot photos. We are each other's best test of patience. And yet, we can sit at a table at a coffee shop and watch the world go by for a good long while. We hold hands walking down the sidewalk and learn to shift single file when a passer-by crowds the space. I will sit next to him on a bus, or nearly anywhere else, for hours on end.

The rest of the week, we waited to get up until 7 and then he brought me back coffee, just as if we were home. I think I can get used to this.