I never wrote a final postcard... call it lazy or whatever. But who wants to write a postcard on a plane ride home? The only time you do that is when you feel guilty for not having written any postcards for your whole vacation and then talk yourself into it on the plane even though the postmark is going to be from somewhere everyone has already been.
Anyway, we had a posh dinner of black risotto... so called because it is octopus risotto colored black from the ink. To be honest, I has pretty sick of octopus and squid at this point and I didn't really enjoy it all that much. We got up at quarter to four the next morning to catch the only flight out of Dubrovnik. I hoofed both our bags up the long dark stairway in one go... geez it was tall. The flight was easy and I read a lot. The best part was seeing the Alps out the window and also getting home (finally!). It's been a long time. If memory serves me correctly we ordered Fireside pizza and lied on the couch. Good times.