6th February 2009

We left a small, green island of gentle hills and grey skies. We took trains, buses, taxis, boats, planes and even travelled by foot. We crossed many lands until we arrived, tired and grubby, at the breaking of dawn in a drowsy, provincial airport. Another train took us through the centre of an enormous island and, whereas before we had been dazzled by so many sights of houses and trees and people, now there was nothing. Every hour we passed through dusty plains in shades of ochre and red that rolled out, flat and unchanging to the horizon. Clumps of straggly grass struggled to survive in patches and occasionally, very occasionally, a strange creature with strong back legs and a heavy tail nibbled at them. The land looked flattened by age. It was old, and maybe a little tired. Eventually we arrived in a city divided by water. Everything seemed familiar again. People looked like people I'd seen before, spoke the same language as me, ate foods I'd tasted before. I stayed. Gradually, over time I started to realise that things aren't always as they seem and some things are topsy-turvy, back to front and upside down. Truly now I'm on the other side of the earth.

JC