The title comes from Johnny Clegg’s song of the same name – it’s what I’m listening to.
Tonight is my last in London, indeed in the UK, for a month. A whole month. I was panicked this afternoon – so much to get done, so little time – but the panic has faded as I realise something much more important. I have a world, a family, a life here now and if the time has done anything it’s provided space to develop some amazing relationships with very special people.
I’ve given up on packing. I’ll throw the last few bits in the case tomorrow morning. I have trackies for the plane, and books and my Aquabeat (not that I plan to need its waterproof abilities) to keep me occupied. I have a new data entry person – Rose Stainer funnily enough – to train up tomorrow morning and then I’ll take one last look at my lovely little flat (to pick up my luggage) before heading out to Heathrow.
Tomorrow I fly to my other home, to the place where older friends and family are, and the emotion attached to that is incredibly powerful at times and almost overwhelming.
Tonight though, I have sleep and dreams – of wonderful people, some new friends, some older friends, and moments of pure joy outside Russell Square tube station on a Thursday night.