I talked in the last post about the fact I grew up in Norfolk. A few years before he passed, my Dad moved to the Newmarket area, but prior to that I are up in a small town on the edge of the Cambridgeshire fens called Downham Market.
For the first time in over a decade I had a good reason to head back to Downham. (While I’ve called it “home” in the title of this post, it really isn’t anymore.) Two old school friends managed to coordinate being back in the UK – from New Zealand and Malaysia, so this was a big deal – and we organized to meet up on Monday night. Funnily I’d seen these two friends more recently than other friends I met up with that night – as we’d been to NZ and Malaysia on our round-the-world trip – but it was still more than 6 years since we’d seen each other.
Anyway, first thing was to get across to the UK, which proved harder than expected. After a morning on the slopes (it’s a weekend in the winter season, so I wasn’t going to forgo…