Another Blur

A morning in Paris is never enough, but we were making our plans for next year, and everything seemed strangely blurred as we wandered through markets and commuters, past fashion studios and luthiers shops beside bolt sales outlets and got quite warm as the morning sun shone bright and warm after the early showers. We stood still for a few seconds outside 57 Rue de Lancry and waved to the Google Street view camera to saying "hi Mum" as it went past, which was pretty dumb really as Mum doesn't have an internet connection, nor a computer for that matter, but with a little luck our souvenir photograph will be online for a year or two.

Then, waiting for the Eurostar we had time to think about our journey of the past week and the last tunnel we had conquered, all two kilometres of it, and the thirty minutes or so it took to traverse through the mountain.

Today the tunnel was twenty times as long and it took twenty minutes and we turned up in another country, where their language is ours and no one understands when we absent-mindedly wish them "bonjour". We were almost dissuaded from entering by the nice man at the immigration counter who gently suggested that if we were going to keep coming and going as we do without actually going "home", someone might ask us some more questions one of these days.

Given our current circumstances, and the location of the places we call home, I can't possibly concoct a reason we might offer for staying in the UK for more than the 6 months at a time we are allowed, or the ten days we have planned for that matter, but I suspect we'll go through that tunnel when we come to it.

But here we are once more in London, grey skies, grey buildings and a different community to explore.