Flight of limbo, Night bus of hell, Morning of heaven

(Welcome here from Facebook if you've come just for more detailed info . as facebook but preceeded by *..read on.
Regular readers enjoy this next bit as new news...)



I have now returned to English shores.

Many people will be wondering, especially, as I said I'd be off for a few years, that I'm back so soon.
Few things.

1. money got short. Not generally a problem for me as I usually get work in places but needless to say a factor for the following reasons as well.
*Money has always been a transitory object for me. I've never actually sought it, but used it, as it should be in my opinion, as a tool. Yes, it is useful to get things done, but ultimately it is paper and pieces of monarchies-faced metal. I discovered, after getting the job, that flights back to the UK were highly expensive later on in the month (something to do with a birth, some gifts and God apparently). This then cascades into a chain of events which ultimately revealed to me that the money I thought I had in my account, I didn't. That the job that was available in Rome to me (working in the Hostel) would actually prove more expensive to do than to actually go and that, ultimately, I needed to eat, sleep and eventually return to the UK at some point. So, being the spontaneous guy I am, I came back.

2. I've been offered a well paid job in England for 7 months. This will allow me to build up a good amount of funds clear a big debt and allow me to travel a bit easier as well.
*This has been generally covered previously in earlier blogs, but I'm going to be teaching Media in an all boys school. Unsure about posting actual link to said school at moment, but will definitely be giving more information as time allows on this.

3. Family. A few events have occurred recently that I feel I should be in the UK for. *My aunt died. My father's side of the family are people I don't fully know. My mother's side are, as always at Christmas time, creating internal turmoil due to usual life and habits that occur at Yuletide. It is NOT up to me to sort things out, but I find that I can usually do a good job when I do. Good will and peace to all kin eh? Stay tuned on this channel to find out how the return to Devon fares later on...

4. Answers to questions I've been pondering have now arrived. Not in full, but I feel they should be examined more closely on more terra firma.
*I went searching for answers both about myself as a physical person and as a spiritual person. There were a few opportunities that were made available to me before I went travelling that I did not explore and some that, having seen other countries do things, I want to learn. Salsa. Spanish. Italian. Herbalism. Druidry (OK this one I didn't see abroad, but has been niggling for some time and before I go further afield, I really need to examine this one)

5. I was not getting any better with my cold. Not a big whinge but enough to hamper further travel.
*Cough. Splutter. Better but not best. Why push the body at a time when it needs rest (and roast potatoes) when it can be in an environment it is acclimatised to, familiar with and, which ultimately, I can get better in? No need.

There we have it. Why I'm back. Now, my regular readers (who aren't leaving comments, why not? pout I like to know that it's not just me reading this you know!) enjoy the ramblings of my psyche and a detailed report so, if you're sitting comfortably...

I awoke in the hostel and, as previous entry/ies demonstrate, decided to return to the UK. When I was happy that a ticket had indeed been booked in my name, I was able to reflect on the fact I had a few hours left in Rome. Being an English teacher, I wanted to see Keats's house (next to the Spanish steps) and having travelled the previous night past the Trevi fountain, felt I should pay the place a return visit.
Got the tube, got to the Trevi. Remembered last time I was there, with a previous partner, a wonderful man who had lived in Rome before. One of my profile pictures on a site came from the photo I had in front of the Trevi, and here I was, again, 2 and a half years later, unshaven, alone and older. It felt right to be there, on a winter day, looking back at a summer time. Concentrating enough, I found the place I stood, embraced, safe and recalled the time I was with him. I was happy then. Was I happy now?
Unsure, I found another point on the fountain and threw a coin in. Myth/tale/legend/tourist-trap-coin-grabbing-propaganda-Italians have stated that the Trevi keeps you safe when you throw a coin in. Until you return. So I returned and threw a coin in for thanks. A cycle complete. I threw another in, knowing that rome would be visited again, and looked up. A statue of a lady looked down at me and for a monet saw a knowing smile. Yes, I'd be returning here again...

Walked to the Spanish steps (ignoring the tourists singing do-a-deer down them...*smirk*) and entered Keats's memorial house. The place where he came to rest and recuperate. He died here soon after arrival, not having written any more poetry.
I walked in on a talk being given and felt at home, like an assistant teacher and briefly longed for that imparting of knowledge again. To teach. To learn from pupils. To reinterpret words and lines and plays and poems because my life is not one of my pupils so I will not see that a character is acting a certain way etc.

Leaving the house I returned to the hostel. Got my stuff. Ate some nice curried rice. Said my goodbyes (leaving the umbrella from the Excelsior as a gift - heck, too much to take as it was!) and left.

Train to the airport. Ticket machine not working, hassle from a fake guide, eventually got a ticket (overpriced version but at this point not caring and wanting to get to the airport) and travelled to the airport. Arrived, played some free-demonstration-Wii (cool, fun, but not worth the money yet) and looked for the flight info. couldn't find it... No panic. yet.

Then I read it. One monitor. All on a blackscreen in ominous white lettering, with both Italian and English:

We apologise but due to a dispute with [my airline I was to be flying with] baggage handlers, some flights may be delayed or cancelled.

Ok... Deep breath and find someone to ask. It wouldn't be mine, because I had to go home. And I couldn't afford any more time in Rome. And.. and..
{Deep breath Paul. find someone to talk to]
Ok. found someone. Yes flight fine. Check in here. Gate there. Shops here. Buy duty free. Spend money you haven't got but do it anyway because you'll be staying at... (oh heck, not got a place to stay in London for tonight yet! panic. no, phone people. breathe.]
Got a place to stay. What does Martin drink? and you? and her? etc...
Armed with a bottle of Jamesons, a tub of Mozzerela and a tube of choccies I found the gate*, checked through, sat down and waited. Slept. Delayed flight. not fussed now as flight WILL be happening. Got on plane. Took off. Free drinks. Free food (as veggie could only have chocolate, but wasn't buying it so not a problem really).

Slept.

Now, in the title of this blog I called it a limbo flight. Anyone who's read Sandman will hopefully recall Delirium on a plane, discussing planes being in between places, and wanting to walk on the clouds. Well, This was the same but at night. I was returning to the UK. I couldn't change plans now (literally, where were the parachutes etc. nope, going to the UK. in the air. no turning back now...)

I awoke.

We're landing, it's half eleven at night and I'm wondering where I am. Yes, I know that we're in London, Heathrow airport, that's me bag etc. But unsure of where I am. What language should I be attempting to speak? Where's the exit? Who am I?

I got a tube.

Eventually, like an overdone smartie, I ran out of tube and had to take a bus. Or two. It was the second one that I refer to in the title, and basically, alongside the WHOLE OF THE BUS, I discussed with a drunken oaf why the bus was not moving due to the fact he had brought alcohol on board, was drinking it, the driver didn't want him to, yes, it WAS against the law to drink on public transport, no there wasn't any signs because it was common knowledge...

I shouted.

The bus went quiet. A brief moment and he left the bus. The bus continued its journey to Streatham. I disembarked, walked to my friend's house, said hellos, gave presents, ate the food made 5 hours previously, then slept (oh yes, I slept beautifully) in a large double bed, which, to my amazement, had been preheated by an electric blanket.
Pure luxury.

I awoke. It had past midday and I was beginning to believe that the last 44 days were a dream. Then I found the dirty washing and it all came back to me.

LATER: I've now spent a lazy day, cooked for my hosts, ate, and relaxing. Going to upload my pictures and chill. Tomorrow - who knows. Will post again later as more to say but this post is already too long so. Laters...