I'm loving uni. Really, I am. I'm loving learning about a subject I love in all this detail, and the challenges that come with that, I'm loving being a part of the community here at Kent - the societies, the people, the events.
But on Saturday, I was back.
Just for one night.
Back in London.
Back in Tooting.
It wasn't heavily planned - something had come up that meant Mum couldn't go to Tooting Arts Club's production of Sweeney Todd (that's a story for another post!) and since I had nothing on this weekend I was going to go instead.
But as I sat on that coach - as we slowly came into more familiar, metropolitan surroundings, I felt this warm feeling wash over me - the kind of warmth one associates with a return to somewhere familiar after significant time away.
Tall buildings. Red buses and bus stops. The familiar comforting shape of the London Underground sign.
And the faces. The seas of faces of all different races and nationalities - Kent may be the UK's European university, and definitely has a diverse student body, but Canterbury as a whole still looks very different to London.
It might be a tad more friendly, that bit smaller, and have a lot more grass and greenery, but it's got nothing on London in terms of multiculturalism - not really.
I walked through the streets of London with a spring in my step and a smile on my face - I felt the city was practically embracing me. It was a lovely day, Victoria Station was bustling with activity, and I was on my way back to ol' Tooters - just like old times.
I got on the Tube. I sat there and took it all in again. The dark blue chairs, the orange text that scrolled across the screens, the anti-social commuters (who could probably sense my happiness and were significantly disturbed by it).
I got off the tube, and I walked back to the family house. I felt the ground beneath my feet, I passed the McDonald's, the Library, the Bingo Hall, my Primary School...
And the front door of my house. I was warmly welcomed by Dad, Ruby and George. We all chatted and caught up. Me and Dad went out for an amazing piece of community theatre (at West End standard!) practically on the doorstep. We came home, we watched some TV, and I went to sleep in my own bed.
I didn't see all my friends. I didn't even see Mum face-to-face (she was over at my Grannie's in Somerset). I didn't go to Putney - probably the next most familiar place in London to me after Tooting.
But just for one night. I got a piece of that old life again - one that, thankfully, will be waiting for me in full at Christmas.
I've probably said this saying dozens of times over the years, but never have I meant it as much as with regard to this weekend just gone...
There's No Place Like Home. :)