Home Sweet Home

After a long 9 hour flight back to Heathrow from Delhi with His Lordship gripped in the first throes of a man cold, and then a night on the sleeper from London to Edinburgh, we are home to a dark, grey, dank day in the city.

Already the sun, warmth and colour of India is receding in our memories, but goodness didn't Waverley station look civilised and orderly this morning.
I'll never forget the seeming chaos, crowds, dirt, and the dispossessed of Delhi station.

We in the west have a completely different idea of life to that of the poorest inhabitants of our world. The inhabitants of the wealthy nations appear to have their existence under control, whereas those living hand to mouth on the streets or in tarpaulined shacks in big cities like the ones we have just seen in India, are at the mercy of what life throws at them on a daily basis.

It is heart breaking that we have so much and they have nothing, and more than heartbreaking to know that when money and help are sent to alleviate the situation, the powerful will more than likely purloin it to exacerbate the divide.

The packing is undone and the first loads of washing on. Christmas? Bring it on!

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