Home is the best of all possible places. I can’t confirm it, but I’ve heard that most languages don’t have an equivalent for the English word “home.” I think it’s more of a feeling than a place, more verb than noun. Anyway, it’s good to be home. On the way here, we clocked about 14+ hours in the air and 10+ hours on the road, so it’s actually good to be anywhere that’s not moving. We also endured the indignities of two security checks, in Athens and Newark. In Athens, Marilyn was relieved of her contact cleaner—it contained less than the allowed 500ml of liquid, but the bottle was larger and COULD’VE contained more. In Newark, Dwight was required to take off his belt and was frisked; I told them not to touch his junk, but they ignored me. He looks like a 75-year-old gimp, but he could’ve been a terrorist. You can all sleep safely at night knowing these great security bureaucrats are at work.
The house was shut up and stuffy when we arrived, but cooled down swiftly when we opened the doors and windows to the fresh, mountain breezes and the evening monsoon rain. Sam decided to come visit us for his work weekend (Wednesdays and Thursdays are his days off) and he arrived shortly after we finished unpacking. It was really nice to have someone welcome us home, especially since we wouldn’t have Ollie back until the next day. (Not that I’m comparing Ollie and Sam.)
Now comes the hard part--digesting all of the experiences of our trip. International travel itself is so intensely physical, it’s hard to reflect on all you’re seeing and doing. The trip certainly lived up to my expectations in terms of seeing the sights and visiting the places that were interesting to me; the ship certainly lived up to my expectations of comfort, service and cuisine. Now it will take time to evaluate the experience itself, and that’s part of the fun. As I said at the beginning, a trip has three parts: anticipation, experience, reflection. Let the reflecting begin!
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