People write lots about exploration and travel and holidays, but not so much about coming back. After big trips, it's the difficult bit. The journey becomes home and you lose your connection, struggle to stop moving. But after short jaunts, the ones where you've never acclimatised fully to being away, never have to, it's just lovely.
Simple things - the taste of your own coffee, the feel of your own mugs, the mingled scents of garlic, fresh bread and chain lube. Sitting reading in your favourite chair. Radio 4 in the background. With a choice of clothes. And plants. And, of course, a choice of bikes. Erm, yes, I know. The strange warmth of familiar roads and trails. And knowing that the local phrase for 'new jockey wheels, please' is in fact 'new jockey wheels, please'.
Nice to be away, but nice to be back too. Home is where your bread maker is.