So even though I haven’t had the time to finish telling you about my adventures in Myanmar or really anything that’s happened since I got home, I figured there was still time to fill you in on Christmas and New Year whilst it’s only January. January is still a passable time (I think) to write about such subjects but if I let in run any further into the year then it will just be weird talking about it then, right?
The last month or so before I left Asia I was actually really longing to get home, wistfully dreaming of things I’d never thought I’d miss – such as fish and chips, roast dinners, good cheese, tea etc. As well as things that I expected to miss such as a select few people and my dog.
I’d already made up my mind, having spent the Christmas before in Thailand (luckily, still surrounded by family) on the Thai islands, that I wanted to be home for Christmas. I guess I imagined it with rose tinted glasses, dreaming of snow (which basically never happens in my area of England anyway), a Christmas dinner, time with family and friends, all lovely and cosy and happy with a glass of mulled wine in hand next to a log fire.
Well, what actually happened was that I ended up working the entire Christmas period, including Christmas eve, Christmas day and boxing day at a relative’s pub. Now, I’m not saying I was forced into it, and the extra money was very helpful in boosting my savings. However, it certainly wasn’t the Christmas home I had imagined, having to squeeze the family time in during the evenings after working a busy service and hyped up on coffee to pass as sufficiently full of Christmas cheer.
It was all a bit of a strange experience on a personal level as well, being back at the pub that I hadn’t worked in since I was 18. I’ve grown a lot since I was 18, but I couldn’t help getting at least some small sense of going backwards, of running in the wrong direction; some days it felt like I had never gone away at all.