Two homes, one day

There are intricacies about a place that one fails to notice when a place becomes 'home'. The particulars are no longer important when you fit in. It is as though you accept the surroundings like you do your very best friend. Your forget their moles, the way their hand shakes, the way they walk when they're wearing that dress. 

  15:16 pm - touch down in Heathrow and on the way to the Isle of Wight. Snaking the roads and I forget. The car number plates; bright yellow not white, the ridge work in the fences that line the motorway, the cream picked skin of the skinny trees dangling over the breeze, BT vans, grazing horses, layers of low-lying cloud, Shell garages, The Wild Bean cafe. I had forgotten what I had been so used to. I had forgotten the particulars of my home. And in making it my own once more, these are the things I'll learn to forget. The things I'll inadvertently turn a blind eye to. But when I return to my 'second' home (that I now consider my first - since I take pride in saying "yes I do  live in Dubai"; bizarre since I hate to be the foreigner!), there will be things I'll need to remember to forget too; the humidity, the constant construction, the feeling of constant paradise. 

  It half-baffles me how I've come to accept Dubai. I was only there for 2 years. But no matter where I am, I am intrinsically connected it; for all its goodness, memories, people and controversies.  I can't shake the admiration I have for Dubai - thank Heavens!