Each time I come back to England,  I’m asked if and when I’m likely to come home for good.  On this trip alone I’ve been asked this question about.. four times.  My answer doesn’t sway,  “yes,  eventually.  But not yet.”

Maybe it’s a testament to my comfort in my new surroundings in Singapore.  Maybe it’s a general worldliness (read: old age) that I’ve unconsciously gathered over the years, that has gotten me all zen about things.   Or perhaps it’s an unyielding, perpetual fear that I have yet to fulfill some unknown aspect of my life,  following which I can return back to the mothership with head held high.  They all play some part in the equation.

Either way,  it was nice to be back. Significantly, I’m assured that I don’t miss the UK (or rather I’m more OK with missing the UK) like I did when I first returned as a “tourist”  back in December 2013.

There are however, countless,  wonderful things in the UK that are invisible when we adopt a pair of resident eyes. Of these,  I recall the maternal,  chirpy tones of the Marks and Spencer cashiers as they tell you  “there you go darlin’, ‘av a nice day yeah?” whilst handing you your shopping. The neutral,  informative but not overly verbose (I’m looking at you,  America) reporting of the BBC.  The unspoken truth that a’ nice cuppa tea ‘ will solve any problem ,  or will at least suspend time and space until you get around to solving it.  The beauty of the country’s quaint, lush parks,  only further valued by the fact we only get to enjoy them for about six weeks of the year. The wonder that is the chilled,  savoury goods aisle at Sainsbury’s.. Pork pies,  pasties, scotch eggs,  sun blushed tomatoes and mozzarella.. *wipes drools off face* and obviously,  my family and friends are there –  the people I grew up with, and shaped me, and continue to care for and support me.

So as moronic as the Brexit decision was, (I can’t decide whether the cause or the effect disheartens me more) it’ll always be Home with a capital H and it’ll always be that sunset in the horizon, behind me. It warms and comforts me, and I know it’ll always be there.

Whilst I’m still travelling down this far away path,  I still wonder when I’ll be ready to turn back towards the sunset.