There's no place like home...

Well everyone, I'm back! I got into Heathrow at 6.30am this morning, and to be honest it was all rather anti-cilmatic. Having looked forward to coming back for so long, I realised that I was far too tired to feel anything at all. Instead I complained to myself about the cost of a latte in this small country, and read my book while waiting for a friend. I've been travelling so much that the change-sensitive part of my brain must have switched itself off, numbed to anything expect the most bizarre experiences. Last week I was eating salmon heads in Hong Kong, yesterday chicken feet in Holland Village, today houmous and pitta on my sofa in London. It's all a bit too much. I'm glad to be back, honestly I am, but I need to wake up before I can appreciate what that means.