I love going away on holidays, but I love coming home as well. Its the familiarity of it, seeing things that are mine. Sleeping in my own bed and not in a hotel that hundreds of others have stayed in before. Driving my own car (though that was a bit weird after 5 weeks of being away). The loveliness of hearing from people how much they enjoyed my emails about my trip and seeing my photos (and living vicariously through my own adventures). Seeing all my things as they were when I left them (apart from the mouse who has newly entered my room and the damp spots that have appeared on my carpet). Still trying to recuperate from jetlag while still going back to work, organizing my life and doing all the chores one needs to do on a regular basis (laundry, cleaning, groceries all being at the top of my list). Haven't had a chance to catch up with anybody yet, but that will be the next thing to do, once I've gotten back to a proper sleeping pattern and this strange red rash on my lower legs has gone. I have yet to sort through my thousands of photos (literally thousands, I went a bit snap happy). Well, the last time I was in Europe, I only had a film camera, 24 shots and no chance of checking up on them until the roll has been developed, so this time around I just wanted to capture every little thing. You can always delete a wobbly or blurry photo, but you can't get back what you never took in the first place.
Gonna give myself a few months to unwind and settle down before I start planning my next trip - definately want to make it something exciting next time.
