We left home to come home.
Life for the past few months was lived in what was, for a very long time, home. We spent our time visiting with friends and family, which is another kind of home. We travelled through different provinces to what was once home before, and realized that memories are a different kind of home. And now we've come back to our Banyan
, a current and very different choice of home.
We are, at the moment feeling a little lost between worlds, true gypsies I suppose as we feel we don't quite belong anywhere. And so we're left wondering just what is home?
Our journey "home" started early in the morning, and we were a tad anxious when we saw the airline attendant affix the bright orange sticker indicating "heavy load" on our suitcases, and we eyed each other warily, yet did a silent dance of joy when she informed us, that after all that serious shopping and stuffing and wrapping of stuff with bubble wrap and ziploc bags, our luggage weighed in at just point zero three and point zero two pounds (respectively) UNDER the required weight restrictions of the flight scale. Bonus!
After a few weather delays both flights departed successfully and we finally arrived, along with our very heavy luggage, in the very dark of night with insanely familiar scents (this is Spice Island after all) and sounds (remember the honking cabs and roosters crowing?), with its palpable humid lush green heat that is St George's, Grenada.
You can just imagine two tired and sweaty travellers (Dave was wearing jeans and socks, after all), arriving at Port Louis Marina, and walking the last few steps on the maze of dark docks of night to get to F (faraway) dock, heaving our heavy luggage bags onto a forlorn Banyan as she sat in her berth, steady and safe, waiting to welcome us home.
We opened the glass companionway that is the door to our home, without a whisper of wind to be felt anywhere, and into the depths of darkness and heat that was our sauna of a home we crawled, found a bag of chips (BBQ !!) that had to do for a midnight snack, along with a bright yellow surprise of "welcome home" banner from friends, and once we connected to the Collective, discovered that we obviously missed our very own welcome back party, complete with jell-o shots (thanks to Mike and Rebecca
and fell into bed, exhausted, as we tried to uncramp our bodies and legs from the very small airline seats that we'd spent much of the day in.
Ahh, we sighed, as we fell into bed. We're going to miss our home away from home. We're going to seriously miss our family and friends that we call home. And yet, we're glad to be home.