When I wheel through this old fortress gate on the Eastern side of our town, known as the Baselgate, I know I am on my way home. I can leave the last cobbled ways of the old town behind me and travel on smoother surfaces along a straight road for about 5-10 minutes and I have reached my village.
I have had many homecomings during the past years. Once a year I would visit my dad in London for a week, flying from Zürich to London. After the week I would again land in Zürich, seeing the fields below me. Landing at Zürich Airport is like landing in the middle of a group of fields. I would then descend to the railway and get the direct train to my adopted home town of Solothurn. As the train sped along the route I would recognise the various villages and towns I would pass through. From Zürich Airport the train would stop at Aarau, Olten and perhaps Oensingen (according to the route) and eventually arrive in Solothurn. From Solothurn I would take the local train to my village, just a five minute distance and then I was home.
It was a good feeling to see my family again and Mr. Swiss was glad that I arrived safely.
It has now been 5 years since my last journey to London and that was for my dad’s funeral. Since I have no longer been in England, but I do not miss it. My homecoming is Switzerland since 53 years.
All the older members of my and Garry’s family are gone now. I guess that means that WE are the older generation. it sometimes feels odd realizing that there’s no older generation to turn to for advice. We ARE it.
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I often think on those lines. My dad was the last of the older generation of my family and he left us five years ago.
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Nothing bad about all the other places, but our home is where our hearts are. 🙂 Enjoy my visits back in Denmark, whwre I was born – but my home is another place. 🙂
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I know what you mean
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