Missing you

It's crrrunch time. And yet I cannot focus. Today was especially difficult. Aside from rehearsing for a Shakespeare play, I missed so many things: hearing Danish, watching the spectacular show (and spectacular flop) Lord of the Rings onstage, looking at the rapeseed fields and waiting at the Leicester Square red carpet. Even the German Christmas market in London is calling out to me.

I only have to look back at my blog archives and I am back in my room in Trekroner, in Hackney, in Islington. In the spare rooms of the Viv and the Bakers. On a plane over the offshore wind turbines. On a train system that actually works. Lugging around my huge red four-wheeler bag on the Tube and onto a red bus. Wandering around on my own in an unfamiliar city. And loving every minute.

I blame the costumes for the play for taking me back. I could dress like that every day again, but the reality is that I am riding trikes and jeeps in smoggy Manila, and queueing for bag inspections, too. If I had won the big lotto jackpot, I would improve the public transportation system before buying anything else.

I chose to be here, I know, subject to the frustrating commute and systemic violence. And yet I wish I could be somewhere far, far away.

Europe, I miss you.