So we’ve arrived in Guangzhou. We’re so so close to home!
Dad and I have been staying at my uncle’s apartment.
I finally got a haircut yesterday. More out of boredom than anything. But it was only RMB19! Only about £2! It was decent enough, and included a wash and blow-dry! Excuse the language, but where the fuck can you can a decent cut for 2 quid! Best bargain ever.
Nothing’s really happening in GZ. Been watching a whole lot of ping-pong on TV. Some international ping-pong tournament is on in Moscow and dad is a big fan of the sport.
It’s been so so hot. I’m drenched in sweat just from stepping out of the house. I want the coolness of London back!
The fact that GZ speaks Cantonese makes me feel that we are just so nearly home. That, and watching bits of HK TV channels, and listening to dad’s conversations, I realise how much of the everyday things of Hong Kong I’ve forgotten.
Little things like how the daily news is presented, what the weather reports are like here (stodgy old weathermen compared to the lively blond bouncy weathergirls of the UK), the names of popular local fastfood restaurants and shops, etc. I’ve forgotten all until they were mentioned here.
It scares me because, I wonder, how much of my daily life in London will I forget in a year’s time?
I realise GZ is like a buffer. A buffer between this other life and going home. I’m not yet home, but I can taste it from here. I can hear it from here. It’s like a trial of how home is before I actually get there.
In my journey back, when I tell people I was in London for 1.5 years, I always ALWAYS get the reaction that it was JUST 1.5 years.
And yet, that small number doesn’t do justice to all that I’ve been through from getting there to being there to leaving there. All that I’ve learnt. All that I’ve experienced. It was a valuable, enriching, and very challenging time and it definitely felt a lot longer.
I led such a different life there, it already feels like a lifetime away.
I wish I could’ve stayed longer, if not for a host of other reasons, but to have a bigger number to tell people, a number more representative of my experiences there, a bigger number to do my memories justice.
I miss Nasty.