In just over four hours, I flew on Monday from the north of Europe to the south, and from thick snow to gentle sunshine. As my plane began to descend into Málaga, I had a surreal moment when I caught a glimpse of mountains and coastline, and realised that it looked incredibly similar to the Western Cape. (I've flown into Cape Town airport more than any other airport in the world - nearly fifty times - and each time I glimpsed Table Mountain or the familiar outline of the False Bay coastline, there was always such a wonderful sense of coming home again.) Monday was strange because, even though the landscape was kind of similar, I realised that there was nothing at all that I recognised; nothing looked familiar, because I haven't lived here long enough, or flown into this airport often enough, for it to have gained the familiarity of "coming home."
Something rather interesting has happened each time that I've come home to Alhaurín over the past few months. On my first day back, "Tamba" (the cat I wrote about on 10th November) always finds me somehow in the street, or just appears on our doorstep and makes herself at home again. This time, though, my flat mate told me that she hadn't seen the cat for the whole three weeks I'd been gone in Norway, even though she'd occasionally put out some food for her. It seemed that this time she'd disappeared for good.
Anyway, I unpacked my suitcase and then headed up to the supermarket to buy some bits and pieces.... and, as I was walking home again, imagine my surprise when I suddenly heard a loud miaow, and there was Tamba, following at my heels like a dog. She ran all the way to our house and waited there until I opened the door for her. Over these past two days, the purring has been so loud, that I half imagined the neighbours could hear it! As far as Tamba is concerned, we're both "back home again."
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