Day 0 back home – JUNE 4, 2012

I landed early in the afternoon and had a small welcome-committee to accompany me on the train back to my hometown 30 minutes from Amsterdam. My parents were there, and two of my best friends; the same group that waved me off 11 weeks ago.
And there’s the guy that I was seeing before I left. But it’s a little awkward between us, and pretty obvious that whatever we were doing before, wasn’t actually ment to happen. So we’ll go back to just friends.
On the train everything is quite alright. They ask me if I had a good flight and am not too exhausted, I begin telling little bits and they ask me sometimes how things work.
Then we get our bicycles. My dad brought me mine. We have this saying ‘like riding a bycicle’ meaning that you’ll never forget how to do that. My feet are freeing though, and I’m glad my mum brought my wintercoat for me. It may be June, but it’s not summer in Holland.

I might have mentioned before how blessed I am with some amazing friends. I had been looking forward to seeing them again very much. Also I’m really bad at being alone, especially after big events like this. At parties and festivals I’m always one of the last to leave; if I don’t the fall asleep in a corner of a couch. I don’t like the sudden solitude.
So I invited my very closest friends for dinner.
Time to do some shopping, at the grocery store I’ve been going to for most of my life. And though I know where to find what, the concept, efficiency and consumerism staring you blank in the face at every turn scares me like a jack-in-a-box. (I’m one of those people who find those and clowns and other childrenstoys very disturbing.)

It’s a good night. And with each of them it feels like I could’ve just seen them yesterday. But still I feel a million miles away.
I’m glad none of them asks that dreadful question “How was it?” There just isn’t an awnser, there is no way to begin to try and explain. And people who haven’t done a solo backpacking trip simply never will understand…
And it’s unworldly to me to hear them talking. About daily things. Things that I might have found important before, now sound so bizar to me and like no issue worth mentioning. The traffic to work this morning, the boss whining about one thing or another…
It’s feels a bit like a hangover. Vivid images of the last few months keep flashing in my mind, and I can’t really connect to the people around me.

It’s almost midnight when I cudle up in my own bed with my own kittens in my old room at my parent’s house.
All the comforts of a home, a warm shower, ‘my own bed’, a warm blanket… nice, but nesecary? a
Of the close friends I invited for a dinner get together a third was no show. Or didn’t feel half as close anymore. I miss Padangbai and my on the road life so much right now.

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