After a night of strange, redbull-sabotaged dreams of being chased by a mob of angry animals, I quietly slid out of my pod in the hostel and down the hall for a quick shower. My roomies which included a Chinese girl in the bed above me, a Spanish guy to my left, and a 40+ yr old English woman, were all snoozing away when I left at around 08:00. A shower rendered me half-human again after my night of craic in London and within the hour I was walking to the Piccadilly Tube station beneath the weight of my pack. Inside was a bulging array of nasty laundry, a 4ft tall disassembled shisha pipe, and a collection of oddities from Europe and Egypt, including 4 books (I really need to find a hobby that weighs less).
There was a familiar sadness in my heart of leaving, but also a quickness in my steps because yet again…
I was on my way home!
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