As someone who once earned a university degree in English and American literature, I probably should be more familiar with the work of Geoffrey Chaucer. But aside from reading a few chapters of his “Canterbury Tales,” modernized from their Middle English original language, I’m fairly Chaucer ignorant.

So I was surprised to discover that the old saw “All good things must come to an end” dates back to Chaucer’s epic poem “Troilus and Criseyde.” Here’s how Chaucer originally phrased it: “But at the laste, as every thing hath ende, She took hir leve, and nedes wolde wende.”

Yeah, I, too, have trouble understanding Middle English, which is why I did my best to avoid having to study it. But I get the gist of what Chaucer was communicating here. And it’s what I was feeling on my last morning in Salema, Portugal, on what would be the penultimate day of the trip through southern Spain and Portugal that my wife Mary Pat and I made in late May and early June.

We headed out in the late morning, after my enjoying one last “café com leite e um croissant” at the Pasteleria Solmar. And all for a mere 1 euro 50 – or about $1.61. (Imagine what that would cost at your favorite Spokane cafe.)

I drove the three and half hours back to Lisbon, where Mary Pat had made reservations at a hotel near the Lisbon airport called the Meliá Lisboa Aeroporto. We checked in, had a late lunch at the hotel and then hung around with our friends Ann and Matt until they left to catch a night flight to Madrid (where they would spend the next few weeks).

We, though, were headed home early the next morning. Of course, first we had to return the car, which should have been the easiest driving task of the whole trip. But because we had trouble locating the actual car-rental return entrance, I was forced to fight Lisbon traffic – including negotiating my way three different times through four lanes of speeding cars around not just one but two massive round-abouts. Finally, though – sweat-soaked and breathless – we arrived.

Anyway, when all was said and done, I took the opportunity to think back on the previous two weeks and consider what I liked best about the whole trip. So here goes:

Granada: This has to be at the top of my list. It helped that the weather was cool and drizzly, which made this part of Spain feel unseasonably less hot than usual. Our tour of the Alhambra, both through the Palacio Nazaries and through the Gereralife Palace and Gardens, was spectacular. But I was even more impressed by the friendliness of the people we met, particularly at the small bar Casa de Todos and the popular Bodega Castañedas.

Note: One of the surprises of our Alhambra trip revealed another hole in my university education. On our way hiking up the hill from our hotel, we passed by a statue of the American writer Washington Irving. Besides having spent a lot of time as a young man in Europe, Washington served as the U.S. ambassador to Spain between the years 1842-46. He later wrote a series of short stories and essays titled “Tales of the Alhambra,” which I have never gotten around to reading. (I just hope UC-San Diego doesn’t revoke my B.A.)

Córdoba’s Mezquita: Yeah, our official tour guide Ruben spoke with an accent so pronounced that I could hardly understand him – and he was supposedly speaking in English. But it didn’t matter. The magnificence of this massive former mosque can’t help but impress you.

The Nerja Caves: As someone sorely afflicted by claustrophobia, I’m not a big fan of caves. So, while I have visited the Oregon Caves National Monument, I’ve never been to any of the more famous U.S. caves – Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico or Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. But La Cueva de Nerja, which is located bear the Spanish beach town of Nerja, is truly imposing. And since it’s big and open and well-lit, it’s perfect for claustrophobes.

The pastries and coffee: In Sevilla, Spain, and in both Lisbon and Salema, Portugal, I was able to score the best pastries and coffee of the whole trip. The pastries at Sevilla’s La Canasta Pasteleria, Lisbon’s Pastéis de Belém and Salema’s Pasteleria Solmar might not rival those I’ve had in Copenhagen or Paris, and the coffee could never be as good as what you get to drink in Italy … but, still, they were pretty awesome.

Note: I’m not a big foodie. I leave most things gourmet-related to my Going Mobile colleague, and long-time friend, Leslie Kelly. That said, I will mention that the restaurant service in most of Spain and Portugal was superb. Yes, there were a couple of bumps, in Salema and one jerk of a waiter in Porto. But they were exceptions, made irrelevant by the great experiences we had at restaurants in Córdoba, Granada, Nazaré and one little surf-themed café in Sagres.

The Elevador da Glória: If you’ve been to Lisbon, you know that it’s more hilly than San Francisco. One way to beat having to trek up and down the steep streets is to take one of the city’s three funiculars. We rode up and down on the Elevador da Glória, and though some people consider them to be the work of vandals, I particularly enjoyed looking at the graffiti that other people consider street art.

The highways: Yeah, I drove mostly toll roads in Spain and Portugal. But I paid in advance when we picked up our cars, in Sevilla and in Lisbon, which let me drive through the toll gates without stopping. And as I’ve made clear, the highways in both countries – the ones I drove on anyway – are as good as anything in all of Washington state, much less Idaho. (And the drivers in Europe are far more practiced at navigating round-abouts.)

Nazaré: Yeah, the big waves when we visited were more bathtub-sized than the monsters that famously smash into the rocks below the cliffs where the Fort of São Miguel Arcanjo sits. (See HBO’s “100 Foot Wave.”) Then again, during the winter season, which begins in late October and stretches into February, so many sight-seers clog the cliffs that it would be difficult to see anything – especially the surfers trying to skim down those 30-meter masses of water.

Note: I’ll never forget the sunsets we experienced as we walked along the sidewalk that fronts Nazaré beach. With the sun setting on one side, and the city lights on the other twinkling all the way up the beach to the promontory where the fort rests, I found myself wanting each moment to last forever.

That can’t happen, of course. I’ll have to just settle for the memories. And look forward to making more.