I am back in the UK.
I feel restless, not to mention COLD.
I have a few round up blogs I'd like to post shortly, but these may take another day or two. Now I'm back, I need to throw myself vigorously into the task of finding a job.
I am not used to the food in Britain anymore and I keep going to talk to strangers who provide services (taxi drivers, waiting staff) in Arabic.
I was taken aback when a woman spoke to me on the street asking, 'sorry Love, you got a spare fag on you?' I gaped at her for a moment. I didn't know her! And she was a local?! Why was she speaking to me? 'No, sorry,' I mumbled after a pause.
I was caught in a downpour the other day and fell into a mild meltdown - what did I used to do? Power on to get home or hide until the dark clouds and cold water went away? There's nothing more soul destroying, I have remembered, than wet feet.
Backwards culture shock. I had no idea it existed until I was in the depths of it.