Chez moi

Finally…I returned to Lyon. And it felt like going home! As the plane (yes, sorry, when I have a salary I will take the train…) came in to land, it was like I'd not been home for months and finally this was it. Funny, really, since it is a foreign country and my friends and flatmates from last year (not to mention the flat itself) have largely moved on. That aside, Claire and I had a wonderful few days enjoying this year's Fête des Lumières, wonderfully hosted by Alexia and Iole, and with a scrumptious dinner care of mathieu keegan and greg…we also saw Alexia's latest play, and met up with several other friends. It was lovely. That is the main point. There came a moment, sometime, when Claire said to me, Where is your home, really? (we were talking, predictably, about Oxford at the time) and I had to admit, I don't really know any more. Oxford is–and isn't; Cambridge is–but which Cambridge more? –and now Lyon? How many homes can one have? I remember once having a conversation with Pipsi, well a "discussion" because she was holding out the view that unless one had really "lived" in Oxford (by which she really meant grown up there) then Oxford could never by your home; I disagreed and said that once you'd been there three or four years as a student it would probably be just as much your home. But maybe there's only ever one home that can make you homesick, and is that a house-home, a town-home or a people-home, I wonder?