✈️ Episode 9: Coming Home... all good things come to an end... or do they..?

✈️ Episode 9: Coming Home

There are a few things that mark the end of a holiday. Some are obvious, some are just little habits we pick up along the way, but they all form part of the “coming home” ritual.

First, there are those people. You know the ones, the early morning door, slammers, rolling their cases through echoing hallways and down cobbled driveways, like they’re auditioning for a percussion section of the philharmonic. It’s always the last night, when you’re hoping for a lie in, and someone decides the whole hotel or air b&b needs to know they’re catching the 0600 transfer bus. A little thought goes a long way, but apparently not when you’re armed with a wheely case... Genuinely, I pick my cases up, if I can't carry them, there's no point in having them... I'd like to think that I'm a bit conscientious towards my fellow travellers… as you know, on this trip, I even had my kit in the Fjällräven split pack…

Speaking of transfer buses what happened to common courtesy? You finally board, exhausted, and there’s always that person.. well, numerous ones, who sit on the aisle seat, plonks their bag on the window seat, and pretends not to see you. I don’t want a deep conversation with you either, but come on, let me sit down it’s a long ride back to the train station or airport. In a slightly off topic thing, I have left a google review for the Alibus that is from the centre of Naples to the airport in the past and it is one of my most viewed reviews on there… crazy I know  

And then, on the way home, on that transfer, real life starts creeping back in to your mind. Do you need milk? Bread? Fruit? You’re not quite sure what state the fridge is in, or whether you’ve left anything in the freezer that could pass as a welcome home meal. Some people head straight for a takeaway, others think that’s “a bit much” after a holiday of indulgence but everyone’s asking the same thing, what’s for tea? Do you even pass a shop on the way home?

There’s the parcel problem too. Before I left this time, I was waiting on a book, a pair of shorts, and a Leica grip... as well as a cheeky thing or two for Sharp Show, of course, they arrived after I left. The book turned up half hanging out of the letterbox, I know this as the delivery company sent me a photo of it... It didn't fit in the letter box, the shorts and grip were behind a plant pot. Luckily, I’d roped in a neighbour who did a stellar job of collecting them all. These days, lockers make it easier, but you’re still on a ticking clock and it is only certain companies that use them... also, I was expecting them before the trip, but, well... postal service had other ideas, no, it wasn't Royal Mail. 

And then, there are postcards. For me, they’re non negotiable. I’ve sent them since I was a kid back then to my grandparents, now to parents and friends. I actually send more than ever these days, mainly because I’m travelling more. The tricky bit is finding a postbox. In Madrid, I posted them in the wrong one and they took months to arrive (if they ever did). In Milan, they reached the UK in record time. In Parma, I had to hand them over for someone else to post because the nearest box was miles away. This trip, I sent a postcard to someone (they don’t know yet and depending on the speed of the Italian postal service, they may not know for a while) who in passing, that they had never sent or received a post card in their life… didn’t know they were a thing… it practically blew their mind  

This trip I finally cracked it, a local pointed me to a postbox in the next village, and after that I saw them everywhere, even a full post office in another town. I’ve been there countless times and never actually noticed one before. Once I did, it became a spotting game, like postcard bingo. There’s something special about it, social media is instant, sure, but a postcard is lasting. A tiny square of a trip arriving weeks later, proof you were thought of, and something to pin on the fridge. A fancy picture, an even fancier, exotic postage stamp... plus a witty few lines from me, what more could you ask for?

Snacks are another ritual. On the way out it’s excitement, on the way back it’s strategy. On the way out, you can grab a Boot's meal deal, wrap, soreen and the blue innocent smoothie are the only options for a meal deal of course. But, do you grab something local for the flight home, a final taste of where you’ve been, or risk the overpriced inflight meal? Personally, I can go a few hours without eating (hard to believe, I know), but sometimes a sandwich just hits the spot at 30,000 feet... or... or.. one of the fantastic kids snack boxes if you're in Italy… miniature limoncello is optional of course.

Back home, routines shift again. Some people recreate meals from their travels, chasing that fleeting taste of holiday. Others stash away biscuits or sweets for colleagues or forget, panic at the airport, and wince at the inflated prices. Either way, the transition is part of the journey.

And of course, there’s the inevitable unpacking. The cases tipped out, the mountain of washing tackled, everything folded and put away, ready, eventually, for the next adventure.

Coming home isn’t just about the flight and the unpacking. It’s about the parcels and postcards, the first meal back, the little annoyances and traditions. It’s the quiet landing back into everyday life, with a few souvenirs of the trip still lingering in your bag, in your fridge, or on someone else’s doormat.

I hope you’ve liked this little travel series, they’ve been a bit of fun, random musings and rants. I wrote a few bits before I came, made some notes along the way and then, whilst in the train to places, I could expand on the notes… most of it was written whilst people were having showers and I was sat waiting to go out for my evening meal… who knew that being on holiday with two ladies would give you so much spare time… anyway, this is the last one of this ‘style’ for a while now, I’ve seen a few comments on the blogs, which is amazing to see that people have read them, making me happy that I’m not just writing these for myself, like I said, they’ve been fun but ‘normal service’ will resume. I’m off for a couple of days before being back at work, not that I want to go of course, but, it is what it is and all that jazz 🐿️. 

Now, I’m off, I need to think about my next trip, but that can wait until I’ve thought about what’s for tea tonight.