Bonjour, mes ami.
Usually, when I have a trip to my country of birth England planned, I get anxious, nervous even, because the bottom line is, I don’t really like being there all that much. My life is away from England, a life I’ve worked so hard to forge for myself over the last decade. I miss my friends and my small family, of course, even bacon and roast dinners, and it’s not that I hate my country, far from it. I just prefer to be somewhere else.
Leslie and I are now nicely settled into our cosy little apartment in Montmartre, Paris, and are already loving our quaint Parisian lives. We live on croissants and cheap champagne, and are doing our best impersonations of living, breathing clichés. I won’t even be seen without a baguette under my arm. So, it seems like an odd time to leave for England, so soon after arriving in the city of lights, doesn’t it? This time it’s different. This time it is only for a week and my return ticket to Paris is safely secured.
So, pourquoi, are we going? I have a special reason. Two dear friends, Howie and Joti, have decided to shock the world and get married. (the same could be said about me, I suppose) I’ve been out of the country for almost two years, with stints in Korea,Thailand, India, Australia and Indonesia accounting for the absence, and it’s an excellent opportunity to celebrate their wedding while catching up with most of my good friends at the same time. Also, I’ll be able to show off my own fiancée. Win win! (did I mention that Leslie loves olde English cider and roaring fireplaces?)
So it might just be the first time I’ve ever said this, but…I can’t wait to get to England tomorrow.
Do all you nomads out there look forward to returning ‘home,’ or is home now elsewhere? I’d love to hear that i’m not the only anti-zenophobe out there.
All images by the Nomad, at ‘Steven Moore Photography.’