I woke up with a start.

Is it today?

Oh, shit. It is today.

Mark’s extended spring break is over. We’re parting ways, again—it’s a bit of our family trademark (ah, ah).

Feng and Mark are flying back to Canada at night.

I’m flying back to Bahia for the final leg of the trip.

But really, today, already?

Mark was still sleeping, Feng was packing. I made myself a cup of coffee—our Airbnb came with a fancy machine and so many coffee pods that I got Mark hooked on espresso.

We had time, so we went for a walk along Paulista as usual, except this time I was leaving first, at 1 p.m. After the 2021 COVID disaster, we decided that I would always stay an extra night wherever just in case the guys would be denied boarding or Air Canada would start cancelling flights randomly again. But the pandemic is over and my flight would have been more expensive on Saturday.

Mark and Feng waited for my Uber instead of the other way around. We hugged one last time. We all hate saying goodbye—I know Mark cries a bit when we go to France without Feng but I don’t know if he cries when I leave.

I don’t think I want to know.

Mark, if you’re reading this, I do cry.

My trick is to read a book on the way to the airport and focus on characters having troubles more serious than mine. I need fiction at this early stage because it’s hard to escape from your feelings when you’re stuck in a taxi. Then the whole tedious flying process keeps me busy and the next thing you know, I manage to somehow normalize being alone again.

It all went very fast at GRU, São Paulo’s international airport. I dropped off my back, went through security, found gate 263 and the next thing you know, we were boarding. It usually takes forever to board—priority, zone 1, zone 2, zone 3, etc. But this time, boarding started and the next thing you know, all the passengers were sitting on the plane. Amazing.

It was a two-hour flight to Ilhéus, so I was basically landing when Feng was taking a taxi to GRU. In fact, we must have landed before he was even trying to find a taxi because the pilot proudly announced it would only take 1 hour 45 minutes to get to the destination.

I was looking forward to landing in Ilhéus because the airport is in the middle of the residential neighbourhood of Pontal, with a landing strip meters from the ocean on one side and the river on the other—Brazilians like scenic and thrilling takeoffs and landings, I suppose. We arrived from the river side. The… ahem, the breaks worked fine. Phew.

The seatbelt signs went off, the door opened, and we all just walked to the shoebox airport—it’s basically one small room!

The Uber ride to my Airbnb would have been seven reais (less than $2) if Uber had found me a ride. But Ilhéus is small, so one plane landing keeps all the Uber drivers busy and I really couldn’t take a moto-taxi with my backpack, so a regular taxi it was.

Now I have to reset.

I’m alone.

I’m in Bahia.

It’s hot, humid, and quite lovely.