Stonehenge

All my closing thoughts seem inadequate or overly sentimental – I remember flying home, arriving at the Victoria International airport, seeing my parents, driving back along the highway and entering the house I had called home for so long. I foresaw the unfolding of all the events in my imagination with a certainty uncharacteristic of life. There were minor variations, of course: hedges trimmed, new music on the radio, new pictures hanging on the walls, etc. They were all indicative of time passing but time that I didn’t see. Along with the ever-changing flow of life was a new faith in the genuineness of its transformation. There is a new vibrancy and clarity that accompany each relationship in my life. My time is no longer dragged down by the boredom that lingered before I left. The bustle of walking on different soils has eroded away the veil of presumptuous complacency and re-invigorated my dulling senses.

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Globe Theatre

Traversing the channel by Eurostar provide the limited excitement of twenty minutes of darkness. The slow ride through rural south London on a bright morning was enough of a pleasure to outweigh the annoyance of an overly talkative school group that shared the adjacent seats. I remember seeing advertisements in London later on that displayed train tracks leading right to the feet of famous Parisian or ‘Brusselsian’ monuments with the tag line: ‘Direct to the heart of Paris’ or ‘Brussels’ depending on the monument of course.

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