... or flying home from home and back.

 

When I went home over Christmas, well I went home. Or to Europe. Because flying „home“ means places and people that are not all in the same country and that is also what my Christmas holdidays were like: somewhere between Switzerland and Germany, with a small excursion to Austria. Ending in a breakfast with friends at the airport (highly appreciated by the way! :) )

 

Well, and after that breakfast, I was flying home again. To that other home, nearly at the other end of the world, with my current life and people that make it home.

But while „home“ CH and „home“ Germany start to become more and more one - or maybe it only looks like it from far - home Hong Kong and home „home“, are worlds appart. Worlds that do not really communicate, because they cannot imagine each other. Both consider the other one being kind of exotic, with wired things to eat, special customs and a lot of unknown people.

 

„What is it like?“ the question is on both sides the same... and if you take out all the description of details the answer, too. It‘s normal... it‘s home.