Thursday, January 15
Coming back from a holiday is never cool, because I start missing the place the moment I leave for home. The recent trip is no exception.
When the equipment was cased and the suitcase packed I went out into the sunlit courtyard to say farewell to the picturesque mountains that had served me a home for two weeks. I never had such wrench and had never been so reluctant to leave. I was watching the vault of blue skies, the might of the the tall snowy gorge, the elegance of centuries-old pinetrees and was eager to become a part of them. Unfortunately, it was not going to happen... yet.
Later that day I arrived home down and depressed, as in my mind I was still up there skiing. I could still see snow-white slopes instead of brownish city slush and smell crystal air instead of exhaust gas. I craved so much for flying back!
Monday was a blur. So was Tuesday. I feel much better now and learn to love the dirty and smelly city again. Have to be back to normal by the end of the week.