My week involved moving from Sydney to London. Thirty hours traveling and in between it; stale airports. We (my wife and I) took the long way around, because the world’s decided to stay interesting (or breathtakingly stupid, as I see it) and the routes that would normally fly by the middle east now can’t.

We’re holed up in temporary accomodation now. Its clean and functional, soulless but convenient. Suitcases still mostly packed as if we might find permanent accommodation tomorrow, even though we wont.

It’ll take time to settle in, no doubt. But the food’s been good. Proper good. The customs run a little different to back home, sure, but the people… most of them have been decent. Courteous at the very least, and sometimes even warm about it.

I miss my dog, a mini Australian bulldog, who wont fly over until we find our new home.

That’s been my week. Figured I’d say hello while I’m at it. Seems like as good a place as any to start getting to know a few people here in the UK.

Beach days are here, and we have a nice secluded cove ten minutes’ walk from the new place. Kid has started an after school club on Tuesdays, made a big lovely batch of cinnamon rolls over the weekend, and my coworkers are more effusive than ever about my output, despite the fact that I’m finishing everything about twice as fast as they think I am. How much better can it get, really?