Home again, home again, jiggedy jig

The train pulls into Barnstaple. I've listened to the rants of a (possibly social-skilled impaired) man who feels that I, along other bourgeois classes should become communist; the discussion of a proud father-to-be-at-21 back from Iraq, and the excited chatterings of a large Indian family.

Yes, I'm back in North Devon.

Now, to any stranger who reads this, it may come across that I'm highlighting nationalities. Not at all, just the fact that Devon has (at long last) caught up with the rest of the world and become multicultural.
Good.
So, being picked up by my aunt (who informs me of the daily goings on in my family - yep- previous posts hinted, here I am now, in the thick of it) and driven to my mum's.
Barnstaple.
North Devon.
Home.

For how long...?