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It is amazing what two weeks away from home can do…

Two weeks in which I haven’t seen the news, besides glimpses on TVs in cafés and bars. From those, I’m pretty much up-to-date with recent transfers of various football players, but politics and other domestic news have escaped me completely.

In these two weeks:

  • a scandal has erupted whith threatens to topple the government:
  • a nearby country is on the brink of revolution:
  • my favourite neo-celebrities have been booted off their reality TV show and a whole new show has started.

—Of course, the last item on this list takes up more column inches and airtime than the first two combined.

On an even more domestic front, I wonder what will have happened to the flat? Will it have been burgled (again)? Will the boiler pressure have dropped below critical (again), and the pipes have frozen? Will the leaking seal in the shower unit finally have burst, flooding the entire building? Will the building still stand?

I have not been able to keep up with any of this because, what with stopping over at John’s new place of work and our mates in London, it has taken me five days to make it home from Portugal.—Which is why this blog has not been updated.

But yeah, the flat is still there, looking homely yet oddly remote. Faced with the circus of our imminent relocation, I almost long for the blissfull amnesia of the road. As soon as I stepped on that plane, none of this mattered. I can understand why some travellers never want to come home. But saying that, it has only been two weeks.

PS. The first Portugal pictures may be up tomorrow 🙂 although the slides will take two weeks :& Honestly, don’t bother with slides—get a digital camera! (Christmas hint…)

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