Finland, Brugge and Manchester

Going straight from the small island of Curacao in the Caribbean to the small city of Vaasa in Finland was never going to be easy. Multiple flights with long stopovers in-between are to be expected, and the ensuing jetlag just undoes all the relaxation of the past few weeks.

A nine-and-a-half hour flight to Amsterdam was followed by an eight hour layover in Schiphol airport. Anticipating that we'd get little-to-no sleep on the overnight plane, Anne decided to book us into a Yotel for 6 hours in the airport.

If you're not familiar with Yotel, it's a sort-of scaled down hotel that are inside the airport terminal and that charge an arm-and-a-leg in hourly rental costs. Still, we knew we were going to be shattered and so it seemed like the most suitable way to spend the majority of our time in Amsterdam.

And despite the room being the size of a cloakroom - with a bed no bigger than a single and just a shower curtain as a door to the bathroom area - it felt like the greatest purchase we'd ever made after a full night travelling across the Atlantic with no sleep. We showered and then snuggled for a full five hours kip until it was time to check-in to our next flight to Stockholm, which was just a small two-hour hop across southern Scandinavia.

From there, it was onto another propeller plane for a mere one-and-a-quarter hour passage over the Gulf of Bothnia to Vaasa. And it was here where I was struck by a phenomena unknown to me but very familiar to Anne.

You see, as we were setting off from Stockholm, the summer sun was setting in the sky, only for it to start rising again as the plane continued north to Vaasa.

Being English, the midnight sun is a completely foreign concept and although I had experienced the opposite when last in Finland - the winter sun rose at 10am and set at 2pm - I was still totally fascinated by the fact that we had landed at 1am with there still being enough light in the sky to not warrant the use of streetlights (not totally daylight, but not dark enough to be considered twilight).

Anne's friend Anne-Mari kindly picked us up from the airport as she was off on her summer holidays and so couldn't otherwise see us, and soon enough we were back at Anne's mum's as if the past two-and-a-half years since we left had gone in the blink of an eye.

We stayed in Vaasa for five days, catching up with Anne's mum and eldest brother, Antti. We also managed to surprise Anne's grandmother with an appearance at her 90th birthday party, before we drove down to Helsinki with Anne's other brother, Hannu and his two kids, Sofia and Untamo.

While in Helsinki, we were treated to an appearance from four special friends that we had kept in touch with since our first leg through Europe, Russia and Asia.

Firstly, we had been in contact with Tim and Jens, who we had travelled from Moscow to Shanghai with. We had just sent a message a few days earlier to say that we would be in Helsinki in the next week and if they fancied meeting up with us but not really expecting them to be able to visit. In their typical form, they said they'd be there.

I sincerely doubt that they would have planned anything if we'd given them six months' notice; they're all about the here and now.

On top of that, we then contacted Annina and Johanna, who we'd met on the beautiful island of Koh Rong in Cambodia and then met up with again on Koh Chang in Thailand. Both were back in their hometown and were happy to come and meet us for drinks.

So, as is the norm when there's a Finnish/English/Swedish piss up, the night turned to pure debauchery with us all not getting our heads down until around 6am. It did mean that I finally got to see some darkness for the first time in a week, with night falling between the hours of 3am and 5am or so during the Helsinki summer.

After just over a week catching up with Hannu and the gang in Helsinki, we were on our way to Brugge via a short stop in Copenhagen where we got quite friendly with a barman named Mads that helped pass the time away between flights.

Then, after a short train from Brussels, we were finally back in Brugge and retracing our steps from November 2011 when we were fresh-faced travelling newbies with the entire world in front of us, but doing it with a bit of style, not the meagre budget that we'd set ourselves the first time round.

So, that night, we went out for some mussels and chips at Restaurant Jan Van Eyk - as recommended by our hotel receptionist. It was situated on Jan Van Eyckplein, a square that is positioned at the end of one of the many canals. From there, we saw a bridge a bit further down and decided that we would start our self-guided walking tour of Brugge from there the day after.

Upon returning to the bridge the following morning, I have to admit that I did have an ulterior motive for wanting to start it from there, as under the charade of taking a picture of the boys (our mascots) with the square in the background, it gave me the perfect opportunity to get down on one knee and pop the question to Anne.

After overcoming the initial shock and disbelief - the first words out of her mouth were actually 'no' (Anne ads that this was purely a disbelief of what was happening sort of 'no'!), believe it or not - Anne accepted and so we spent the remainder of our day with an additional spring in our step.

Where did I get the ring from and how did I manage to keep it a secret from Anne? Well, this is largely to do with my mother's efforts.

You see, when we were back in Australia, I had decided then that I was going to ask Anne to marry me and I had my heart set on doing so in Brugge. However, there was still South America and parts of Europe to contend with so there was no way I could carry a ring with me for so long.

There were a select few people in on the secret, and on a visit to India, my mum found a jeweller that did custom made rings. So with my specifications, she got the ring made and took it back to England with her.

Getting it to me in Brugge was another matter.

I contacted our hotel in advance and liaised between them and my mum, who Fedexed it over ahead of our arrival. The receptionist played it totally cool on check-in, and then as Anne was showering in the room, I went down 'for drinks', and it was then that I was able to pick up the ring and smuggle it into my bag ready for the following morning.

Simple. Unless you're my mum (whom I owe a million thanks).

The final few days in Brugge were spent picking up a few bits of clothing and something to mark the occasion (which turned out to be a vintage globe and compass), as well as the obligatory evening and catch up with the staff at 't Brugs Beertje - the small pub where we acquired our secondary mascot back in 2011.

Unfortunately, Clive and Teresa had booked in a week or two before and so we were without our beer gurus/companions, but Daisy and Tom were ever so welcoming again. And bizarrely, their new staff member, Laura grew up around the corner from me in Manchester. Small world.

Before we'd even realised it, our time in Brugge was over and it was back to Hull on the overnight ferry. Although my mum and dad knew of our impending return, we still managed to surprise a few family members and friends.

It took the help of my mum to get them all in her back garden that afternoon, and my dad had to pick us up and keep us away for a few hours while they all assembled, just so we could reunite with them all at once. We obviously then shared our big news too.

And that was it: we were back.

Anne was to look for a job again, while I was to go full-time with the company I was setting up with a friend. Our travelling lives seemed like a dream that you can't quite remember; like nothing had happened over the past two years, eight months and one day.

Perhaps we'll revisit our travels to provide a 'top five' overview of everything at some point, but for now, it's time to get back to planning this next stage of our lives. And after making it through what we have together, I'm sure there's nothing that we can't do