I woke up this morning with the weird feeling that i was being watched. It was still dark at around 7am and i tried to orientate myself. As soon as i understood where i was, who i was and what day it was i saw him. My 4 year old nephew. sitting in the darkness on the living room table, eating his Yoghurt and silently judging me to pieces. „are you still sleeping?“ he asked. i replied „yes“. but that was a mistake. My nephew is smart. He knew i wasnt sleeping. So he forced me in the very early morning hours to get up from the couch and play with him.
Thats how my days are currently starting. I am back at home – home-home in fact – on holidays and to see friends and my family. I have reached the age where the main part of my luggage when going home is filled with presents. Not for my folks or friends. But for the kids. I am the blonde auntie or godmother from AFRICA. The one who always arrives and departs with the plane and only communicates via skype for the rest of the year. I am the one who is barely there but 120% there when i am actually present.
I love the culture shocks i get every time i arrive back in Europe. Strangers suddenly speak German, cars drive on the „wrong“ side of the road and everything is so green and lush. And EMPTY!! No people. No beggars. Half as many cars. SO QUIET!
The differences are amazing although i am never fully aware of the differences, when i return to South Africa.
As you guys know though, I am notorious in picking the wrong travel season. All. The. Time. Guess the weather conditions currently here. Jep. You are right. It rains. Every day. Its a silent rain which creeps up on you and makes you cold and wet and miserable. I am trying to find the good in this but i am still searching.
Actually i am not. You guys should have seen my granny today. She gave up on me already and thought i wouldnt make it this year back home. Ha! But i made it. Arrived in time for cake and coffee which my granny couldnt finish because she was so excited to see me. Big smile in her face, she instantly recognised me and kept on telling everyone that i am the lost granddaughter from Africa who finally made it home, while she didnt let go of my hand.
You know. After all, does it really matter what time of the year i travel when in fact, the weather does not even matter? As the Hamburgers also say: there is no bad weather there is only the wrong clothing. In summary, this means: there is no wrong season to travel, there is just a wrong attitude. There you go. Wise sentence of the month. I shall live up to this in the following weeks. Stay tuned.