We’ve had a lovely couple of days away.  Enjoying the atmosphere, the climate, the country and, most importantly, friends’ company, good food and wine.

Really, it has been lovely.  But then you come back.  We went by train, given that the car may not have made it so far (I’m surprised, as I’ve said, that it makes it to and from work every day.  But, I’m grateful).

Rufus came with us and was as perfect as always.  Trams, trains, cars and most methods of transport really doesn’t bother him at all.  And he gets lots of attention, which he loves.

And the food was great, as always.  And the wine was plentiful.

But coming back is a strange thing.  I always have such mixed feelings.  On one side is the fact that a) I want to get home, b) I want to be really ‘comfortable’ again, c) one can just ‘slob out’ without having to be entertaining and d) I just want to get the travelling over with, even the ‘anticipating’ of travelling.

However, there are the things like a) it’s the end of relaxing, b) it means going back to work, c) it means doing the washing and ironing and d) we get to spend less time with each other.

And we’re sitting on the train, which is busy, and there are all these people doing the same.  As we don’t travel on the train so much (although probably more in the future unless the car has a miraculous recovery), it’s interesting.  Nearly everyone has an iPod.  Some people are there with their laptops, one who is playing music videos with the words on the left.  There’s a quietness about it all.  A slightly depressing feel to the journey.  You wonder where people have been, what they’ve been doing, are they finishing their journey in Milan or catching a connecting train elsewhere?

And it’s hot.  I looked at my little weather thing on the left when I logged on and it showed Milan as clear and 21 degrees, but it feels much warmer.  I think some of the plants may have survived the neglect of the last few months although some have not.  Such is life.