The Homecoming

Upon arrival at LHR (Heathrow Airport), I topped up my Oyster card (which still had about 2 pounds on it from last December), and went to the platform to wait for the Tube.

As I got onto the train, I was instantly flooded with memories. The very familiar fabric of the seats on the Piccadilly line (deep blue with a scattered square pattern) brought back a very eventful 4 months of last year.

This time, I was convinced that I had packed lightly with one large, red suitcase, a carry-on and a backpack. When I alighted at my stop, Westbourne Park, I was dismayed to see that it's a station with stairs...and no lift.

I proceeded to lug my two bags up the stairs--one step at a time. To my surprise, a pale, young man--complete with freckles--passing down the stairs toward the platform to catch the train stopped, crossed under the railing to my side and, with few words, carried my bag to the top--he probably missed the train. Another young man, walking behind me grabbed my carry-on case and also effortlessly transported it to the top step. I thanked them both warmly and they hurried off to get where they were going. I would like to say that despite even Londoners' own assessment of their supposed cold reception to others, I felt very cared for by these two strangers. Yay, I like these kinds of surprises!

Also, after this event, I understand why people use the term "emotional baggage." It's not a fun thing to carry about.

I walked from the station to my new flat. The landlord himself is quite a character, but that's another story...
I rang the doorbell and my luggage was again seized, this time by the kind Frenchman living downstairs, and brought up a flight of stairs to my flat. My new flatmates are quite interesting & diverse (as usual)--I would be surprised if it were any other way given my past history.

The first young woman I met is Brazilian and is studying English here, very friendly; in fact, I'm sleeping in her sheets if that gives you any indicator of how warm and kind she is. Her immediate roommate is an Aussie who works with disabled schoolchildren during the day. And then there's my unemployed self rooming with my amiga who lived in the flat below me last time we were in London!

All that remains for me to do is to join the ranks of the employed!