We're still at home, t-minus 36 hours until lift off. Sarah's speaking Spanish I don't like it, hopefully we won't need it, I'm worried she'll make jokes about me in Spanish and then look triumphant, I'll try to look indignant and unmoved if she does that. We've also packed now, that was fun, though I've realised I didn't put socks in the shoes which seems like an elementary space management error. I'm going to go soon to cook a farewell paella with sarah, i hope there's wine. I don't know how often we'll 'blog' (I'm not comfortable using that as a verb) but we'll certainly try, I might even let sarah have a go if she's good, but please remember we'll always be thinking about every single one of you, feeling the ache of distance that separates us from our family and friends while we're lying on beaches, exploring ruins, eating guinea pigs or watching other people dance tango. I have a tear in my eye right now, anyhow have to go paella waits for no man...