Well, I’ve made my way to London and this is the closest that I’ve been to home since I left on December 5th. I love this city, and I always have. It was the first truly “foreign” place that I ever visited and that set off a lifelong pursuit of travel to distant places.
For several months now, I’ve been in countries where English is not very widely spoken. As I’ve mentioned before, this put me into a whole new realm of solitude and I often found myself of playing the little mind game of seeking out people who looked to be foreigners and trying to over hear their conversations. Every once in a while I would get lucky and the conversation would be in English. I don’t think I was trying to be particularily nosey, I was just curious what fellow travellers were talking about. Um, I guess that sorta of fits the description of nosey. Oh well.
I had to put that little game to a stop pretty fast once I got here because everyone is speaking in a tongue that I can understand and it feels really good. Besides, I had a whole evening with actual friends, at their home no less, to exercise my speaking muscles. It’s been one of the highlights of my trip so far. I’ve said before, it’s the people not the places that stand out in your memory. I’ve proven that right again.