Travelling is fun but homecoming is better. Strict grammarians might quibble at this sentence but I can’t think of a shorter, more compelling way to describe my thoughts as our Boeing came to a halt on the tarmac and the staff opened the cabin doors to let in fresh tropical island paradise air after an 8+ hour flight from London and 7 weeks roaming around the European continent.
Do not get me wrong. We loved Europe – and always will – and the thrill of seeing sons, daughters, grandsons, granddaughters, friends (old and new) and household pets – including one-hour-old kittens – will remain with us forever. Long after we’ve uploaded and edited the hundreds of snapshots Jeff captured on his nifty little digital camera.
We had (too) much great food and although you readily find restaurants promising genuine French, Italian and Spanish dishes in all corners of the world they can never match those prepared with tradition and love served inside the national borders of France, Italy and Spain, respectively.
Because of – or despite – the above-mentioned delicacies we also found ourselves obliged to sample the finest red, white, rosé and sparkling beverages from these three same countries. And yes, risking the wrath of wine importers everywhere wines – like foods – are also best tasted inside national borders.
But I digress. On our trip, parties were thrown for us, welcoming homes received us and e-mail addresses were exchanged by the dozen.
We stayed-up way past our normal bedtime – on one memorable occasion until daybreak – and were pleasantly surprised by how quickly we got used to sleeping-in much later than we do in the tropics. Let’s hope it doesn’t take us too long to get back to our normal routine however – I can’t wait for those Caribbean sunrises streaming through our open windows and fluttering curtains.
We marvelled at the peace and tranquility of tiny one-church, one-cafe villages in Southern France and Italy and were undaunted by the hustle and bustle of big Madrid. Where we quickly grasped the logic of the sensational public transport system and flitted around the place like two frisky Madrilenos.
But now we’re home. It’s late at night and too soon to return to West Indian time. We need to decompress after the hectic weeks behind us. How better than to leave the suitcases unpacked and perform our traditional homecoming ritual?
In this order: (a) Plunge into the ocean, (b) cast off all intercontinental travel gear and (c) frolic joyously to mark a safe return and herald a new beginning.
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You might also enjoy our short “Sexy after Sixty Day” video. But pump up the volume.
