Yesterday, after weeks of searching for a bargain price, then getting scuppered by bureaucracy, the tale of which I don't plan to go into you'll be relieved to hear, then watching the ticket prices rise, and getting both increasingly frustrated and giddy with excitement, I booked plane tickets for a visit home.
Home; the land where my family and friends are, where some people speak like me and share a similar culture, and the place that I think about probably more than is healthy.
But when the flights were booked, rather than increase ten fold in excitement causing the neighbours to complain about the strange high pitched squeaking, I felt, well just a bit unsettled. Maybe because it isn't home any more; this is, and with the knowledge that this will be our home for another year at least I guess that's a good thing.
We moved around the UK a few times and whenever we went back to visit the places we used to live, I felt strangely displaced, and I imagine it will be just the same when we are back. I am looking forward to it; seeing as many people as we can possibly see, the cold and rain, and surprise, surprise FOOD. We have already made a list of what we have been craving and it is ridiculously long. It will break my heart if my first sausage isn't Shakespeare in my mouth, but maybe disappointment, a greasy face and a 'broken heart' is just what I need in order to feel more settled here. Who'd have thought that?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
It's a long time to wait for a visit home, and although you probably will feel a bit out of sorts with being here, I can totally assure you that being with all of your friends and family will more than make up for it!
Post a Comment