387 days… 1 leap year and 3 weeks of travelling. Of course, day 1 of the adventure was always journaled as being in Delhi, when in fact day 1 could have been leaving the UK. BUT, by the time we noticed that little blip in our counting we were already a hundred days or so into the journey and my parents were printing out the blogs, and unbeknownst to us, so was Tracey. So, the adventure has come to an end and so too have tales that have filled books and cyberspace. 
Writing the blog entry for this day a few weeks later, it is still fresh and clear the day we came home. The simplicity of the airport, the familiarity of meeting Nicola in the arrivals hall (thank you Nicola for collecting us, #1 Third Wheel), the navigation of the route back to Raynes Park, seeing the same buildings still under construction. All of it made us feel like we had never been away.
We stayed at the Travelodge down the road from the flat – one of the few projects in the area that got completed in our absence – as our tenants hadn’t technically left yet. But, we later found out that they had been in the US for almost 6 weeks and the flat was being repainted in their absence. We could have moved in home straight away. But, the hassle they had given us during our year away was continuing. Ugh! [Insert sad emoji face and a sigh of despair] Lots of bits and pieces to slowly put right in the days that have passed and more still to do… the single biggest problem they caused was not paying Thames Water and other bills. Poor management by the letting agent and a fault in the Royal Mail redirection service meant we had come home to letters from debt collectors and bills that weren’t even ours. But, that was not part of day 387 and shouldn’t be included in this eulogy.
A spot of breakfast with Will and Nicola and we headed off to the storage locker. Still too early to check in at the hotel, we rummaged through the contents of the bin to get at work/interview clothes and essentials we’d need in our first few days. Dragging it all back to Raynes Park was tiresome and jet lag and such was kicking in. A nice warm shower, a bit of daytime British tv and we managed to get through the afternoon. A kebab from the lovely Turkish lads down the street for dinner and it really was starting to feel like we had never been away. 
Friday 28th October 2016
Up the N22 to the airport and we spent ages driving around the car park looking for a space. I personally think it’s deliberate so as to rack up time in the short stay parking and get more money out of ya. Cheating gits the lot of ’em! My point was further emphasised when we got a juice and sat down for a bit and the geezer at the till put through the most expensive juice three times. Grumpy security staff didn’t make the parting any easier and I barely kept it together.
Departing 30mins after the scheduled departure time (what is it with me and delayed flights lately), I tried to occupy my mind with word games on the phone. No good, a few secretive cries looking out the window; watching the coastline fade away as we passed out further over wave-crested blue seas, gradually ascending over a blanket of clouds and I felt a bit better afterwards.
First off the plane – WOOHOO!! – I was zooming through the arrivals hall, bypassing passport control altogether and strolling through the terminal till I found the escalators down to the train. And away it went, darting in to Liverpool Street and the train even had wifi. SCORE!! Being ever so efficient (and clever) I walked up the street to Moorgate station to get the Northern Line, rather than getting the Central at the station which would have been manic.
We ended up getting to the garden centre before it closed and for the extortionate price of 20p Clare was able to feed the koi and carp in the big pond at the back of the nursery. It soon became very crowded and we left the brightly coloured fish to gawp at the water surface in the hope of more food being thrown at them. The aquatics centre was very well taken care of and the garden centre had a wide selection of plants to satisfy any green fingers. 
But, with the weather closing in and all of us getting cold we decided it was a good idea to walk slowly around the area in the sunshine for a bit of warmth before our meeting time at the station.I had absolutely no idea what to expect, Clare organising this event as one of her Fabulous/Frivolous 40 presents. I just knew that we would be doing a walking tour of the area looking at graffiti. So, presented with a clipboard from the University of Bulderdash, I didn’t know that we filled out the form as a spoof and weren’t to take it seriously. I was confused by the manner in which they were speaking, that of a lofty professor with a broomstick stuck up there ass. Still, things started to make sense and it all fell in to place by the end of the first work of art – the padlocks on the fence. There was a padlock for every failed relationship that Sir Shoreditch Richmond III had. And the stories of their forbidden love, anguish and suffering were portrayed in the type of lock that he added to the fence. 
The graffiti work was equally nonsense, with Clare being one of the only ones in the group to challenge the ‘professors’ on their thinking and subjects. The questions asked were silly and the responses were farcical. We upped the ante when we were told that the Prof’s had been hypnotised at the Christmas party and if we didn’t like the explanation of a piece that we say ‘correction’ and they have to make up something else entirely. They sometimes painted themselves in to a corner and I’m surprised I didn’t bawl my eyes out from laughter.
Trans Travels 