I got off the plane with legs stiff from the 10-hour flight from Munich.
“Welcome home. Right this way, please.” (Indicating the short line through customs.)
Man, it’s nice to have the right passport.
So I’m back in my own country and everything works properly again.
The light switch goes up for on.
My devices plug directly into the wall without a gargantuan adapter or chopstick.
I know which way to look when I cross the street.
There is a clothes dryer.
And most importantly, water pressure in the steamy hot shower.
All that said, there is a sadness in my heart.
The sun and the sea of Malta have an allure of their own.
I will miss my runs along the cliffs of St. Thomas Bay.
I will miss my walks to admire the graffiti and read by the sea at Jerma Palace.
I will miss my bus ride to Valletta with a hot imqaret waiting on the other end and lunch and coffee at the Grassy Hopper and gelato at Amorino.
I will miss the beautiful room and view where I spent a couple of nights in Gozo, and the Citadel and coffee and dessert at Capitan Spriss.
I will miss the biggest challenge of my life managing the Happy Hive Music Café.
But most of all–
I will miss my new friends.