Whilst peering down at the countryside below, at the neatly sectioned fields of varying shades of green and the lines of orderly traffic filing along the well maintained roads - strangely, actually giving way at junctions - suddenly the pilots deep, well spoken voice filled the sterile air conditioned cabin;

“…the local time is two-fifteen, erm, outside temperature is currently eleven degrees and overcast with, erm, light rain…”

Light rain. Drizzle. It was then that it dawned on me. We were home. Below us were the green and pleasant shores of England. The land of gray skies, endless drizzle and the beloved chav. The home of football, lager and the glorious English brekky. After the most amazing year of both of our lives up to this point, our trip had finally come to an end. With mixed emotions we touched down at Heathrow airport on Saturday 27th February 2010.

First came the excitement. Excitement at the prospect of seeing friends and family (and dogs) again after such a long time. At the thought of treating the taste buds to some traditional English fare, but where to start? Proper fish and chips, toad in the hole, maybe even a Ginsters slice? So many choices. Then there was the excitement to simply cross the road without closing your eyes and praying to the good lord that you were still breathing at the other side. Even, especially after the chaos and hassle of India, at the prospect of walking down the street and being completely and utterly ignored by every single person. Yes, being back does have its good points.

Next however, came what I can only describe mild deflation at the realisation that it was all over. At the thought that tomorrow, for the first time in a year, we wouldn’t be flicking through a battered, dog eared copy of the Lonely Planet in search of our next destination. At unpacking my bag for the last time and placing my shorts in a chest of drawers, neatly folded, with the conscious knowledge that the chances of my legs seeing anything resembling sunshine again in the near future was slim at best.

I definitely wont be missing the stinking hole in the floor toilets, alive with flies and joined at the side by the stale bucket of water for flushing and hand ’washing’ purposes. Safe to say, my pasty anglo-saxon flesh and now somewhat devoid bloodstream will be glad to see the back of the mosquitoes and sand flies. Ill also happily do without sharing ten person dorms with what can only be described as living hand grenades - you know the ones I mean, you know their gonna go off at some point, its just a matter of time. It’s no less than a race, getting to sleep before they do and the deep throaty, kind of whirring sucking noise of a snore arrives and your forced to admit defeat in your quest for sleep and lay there awake, cursing them from under your pillow or throwing a stray sock in their general direction.

But even then, in a strange, kind of sadistic way, even these relative minors added to the experience and made it what it was. I mean, wouldn’t it be just a little bit boring if everything went perfectly? Or am I just kidding myself again? Yea, thought so…
Even then though, overall they were far outweighed by the positives. Looking back over the last year, at the amazing sights and wonderful people we have encountered and the experiences we have been so lucky to have had, the overriding emotion would have to be one of satisfaction with a hint of pride. The amazing people we met in places such as Australia and Vietnam in particular. The back breaking fruit picking boot camps. The great nights out. The sun, sea and sand. The ‘easy rider’ tour. The Taj Mahal, Ankgor Wat, The Golden Gate Bridge and, well, the entire country of Laos, will also live long in the memory along with countless others.

That’s what travelling is though, isn’t it? Experiences. Entering the unknown and pushing yourself to the edge of your comfort zone. Finding yourself in new places constantly with not too much of a plan. Memories. Meeting new people and witnessing new cultures and lifestyles.

Being away for so long also makes you realise that where you come from really isn’t as bad as you liked to think. There comes a point where, shhhhh, whisper it, you even miss it a little bit. The familiarity of it at least. Not for long and only a little bit, bit it all counts, right?

So here we are, back in our little corner of England. Back to reality and what some like to refer to as ‘the real world’, it is then? Nah, not for me. Ill definitely be packing my backpack and heading off somewhere again at some point.

Strange how the longer you travel and the more places you visit, the list of places you want to see seems to get longer rather than shorter! Mine certainly seems to anyway. Its been emotional, sharing this rollercoaster journey of ours with you all. Who knows, maybe ill meet some of you again from the pages of another blog, another time, from another far flung corner of this amazing, diverse world of ours. You’ll be more than welcome to join me anyway! For now, I’m off to get me some fish and chips, a cup of tea and sit myself in front of the TV and some non-descript, lower league footy match, just because I can!

So with that, I shall bid you all a fond farewell and sign off. ‘The story so far’, sadly, is complete.