deja vu

Juan is organising post-work pints in honour of my departure. Has it really been four years since I did this last? Four years since the post-work pints with the ireland.com crew, and Conor Pope falling off his bicycle? Four years since I was commended by my boss's boss for doubling my salary through use of the company phone and dancing to Britney Spears songs in Isolde's Tavern (let's never speak of this again)?

And now I'm at it again, this time leaving Reuters and my Latin American colleagues, but the same post-work pints in a faux Irish bar, and the same melancholy pull to be leaving a great bunch of folk who have rescued me from taxis, fought with me over driving, bar-toddled through BA and Santiago by my side and sung a capella in the wee hours, visited me in two hospitals and managed despite all of that to teach a non-visual wordsmith how to tell a story through images. For which, from the bottom of mi corazon latino I thank each and every one.