Just got back, after a few days back in London. 

Quite a strange emotional journey, the first trip back to the place that used to be home.  Of course it’s always hard leaving the family, but it was made harder this time by Richard severely twisting his ankle and being barely able to walk / drive etc… I hated leaving him to it, even with as much preparation as possible doing all the parenting for even 4 days is hard work, we all know that.

I had a lift to the airport with a friend who had guests on the same flight, so that was a  huge help.  Arriving back in Stansted I was met by Mum and Stephen who took me back to their place in Cambridge, and it was really lovely to see them again and in their familiar context – it was all so familiar, it was as though Spain had never happened in a weird way!  But then talking to the kids and Richard on Skype reassured me that both worlds can go on existing simultaneously somehow.

I took the train into London the following morning, and visited clients and colleagues in the rainy grey city.  I had very little time in my schedule for retail therapy – it was as though my London head had taken over in frantic overscheduling, and some people I had hoped to see I never caught up with at all!  I did manage a very pleasant dinner with Nina and Mark, who also put me up that night.  Also that evening I had the weird experience of visiting our old house – but no longer our home – in Molesey, which I expected to be emotionally challenging but was in fact fine.  It was good to see our tenants clearly contented and keeping the place in decent order, and it didn’t look or feel like home so that was just alright.  I delved into the office lockup for a load of summer clothes, and our old Sky box which Richard had high hopes for.

Next day a colleague living locally kindly drove me into London, as my luggage load had increased substantially.  It took over 2 and a half hours of nose to tail traffic, barely breathable air, under slate grey skies…  I thought about driving along the coast road to the Port in the sunshine in Javea, with the orange groves to one side and the Montgo glowing orange in the horizon… and I smiled quietly to myself. 

It was wonderful to see everyone, as my back to back meetings included a lovely Saros reunion lunch.  Working with these people every day it wasn’t like we’d missed each other in the usual sense, but as we only manage to get together face to face a few times a year it is always very special, and from a meeting point of view we also accomplished a lot.  I am already looking forward to our big summer party, even though I know I’ll be speaking to everyone again on Friday once I’m back at my desk.  I am so lucky to work with such a great bunch of people, who mean a very great deal to me.

I didn’t shed any tears though as I waved goodbye to London and sped away from Kings Cross back up to Cambridge, where I had another lovely evening with Mum and Stephen hearing all about their recent exploration of India and seeing all their amazing photos.  I also had lots of beautiful gifts to try and cram into my bulging rucksack, which came in just under the Easyjet weight allowance somehow!

Next morning I was headed for home, and as I finally saw the blue skies and sunshine of Spain, lighting on the faces of my lovely family who drove to Alicante to get me, I knew that now I was truly back where I belonged…