Moving back to London was daunting after my stint in Asia. Just as I was busy settling back into autumnal Suffolk, enjoying food that wasn’t coated in fish sauce and remembering how to drive, I was launched back up to the capital for interviews.
This was an uncomfortable experience for a few reasons. Number one, it felt as if I’d tried and sentenced my feet, locking them away after wearing flip flops for three months straight. Then there was money. I had none left after booking just one train ticket. After months of only seeing their faces on Skype, I was just getting used to the 3D versions of my family. There was also the prospect of going back to work. Would I get back into the swing of a routine after nearly 3 months backpacking with only a visa stamp in my passport dictating where I needed to be? One unfortunate lunchtime with Loose Women and Cliff Richard suggested that I was ready.
So there I was, bouncing like a pinball from home to London, still living from a suitcase 3 weeks after returning to UK soil. Before I could catch a breath, I was offered a global events job with a marvellous team that I’d worked with in Singapore. Fast forward two weeks, and I’d completed two events with them back to back at the glamorous Four Seasons and Pennyhill Park and moved into a Victorian house in Dulwich owned by an ancient 4ft Cyprian lady. Phew.
None of this would have happened if I didn’t have such incredible support from my family and mates who put me up and fed me during my temporary (but self-inflicted) poverty. I am so grateful for that blow up mattress, that tasty Sunday roast, that coffee when we met, those interview shoes and borrowed bag, that train ticket. I can’t wait to invite you all to my new home, cook you a meal and spoil you in return. But a special thanks must go to Cliff for that terrifying glimpse into the void.
Picture credit: http://www.starok.com/beta/embedphoto/cliff-richard-1938.html