Tears of joy and relief

The roller coaster of emotions here is overwhelming.

We all went home and cried last night. Tears of sadness, frustration and exhaustion. I wasn't sure I had the energy or mental capacity to deal with it all again today. I can't remember ever being so tired.

We went and bought two bin bags full of shoes, and did our final Lidl shop of our stay. We returned to Moria, and spent the afternoon trekking up and down "Afghan hill", replacing falling apart and unsuitable footwear and handing out the last of the contents of our cars.

Walking around the camp, waving to familiar faces, sitting and chatting to new friends, catching up with and saying goodbye to existing ones, it struck us all how much the camp had changed in such a short period of time. The conditions are still dire, but they are getting better. The atmosphere has lifted. The entire feel of the place is changing. And this is entirely down to a small group of people, working tirelessly and believing passionately that this is what must be done. And if not them, then who else? They don't have to be there, they shouldn't have to be there, but they are. Truly inspirational people, I am utterly awestruck by them.

Our last port of call for the day was Kara Tepe, the camp for Syrian families and couples. We'd been meaning to visit the camp all week, but the need had always been greater elsewhere. Now we needed to visit, as we'd promised a family of 17 we would try to find them. Last night we'd helped them off the boats, tried to get them warm and dry, babysat their children, desperately attempted to keep them together as a group (something akin to herding kittens), took selfies with them, heard their stories, and most of all became friends. We didn't know whether they'd have been moved to the camp yet, whether they'd managed to stay together after they left us, or whether we'd even find them. As we drove in, 4 of the family were stood by the entrance gate. They took us to show us their new "home". Compared to Moria, it is positively palatial. They had stayed together. Their papers had been processed. They were happy and smiling and making plans for their future. The children were running around, playing and covered in face paint. We hugged, we kissed, we had a lot of photos taken. Photos to show our friends and family, and photos for them to show theirs. We wished them well on their onward journey, and they wished us well on ours. We promised to try and see one another again, when they find somewhere to settle. We left the camp smiling, and managed to wait until we were out of sight before the tears came.

Tonight this beautiful family leave Lesvos and begin their journey through Europe. And all we can do now is hope. Hope that they suffer no more pain and trauma on their journey. Hope that the relatives they had to leave behind will be able to join them soon. Hope that time will heal the wounds of all they've been through. Hope that they will find somewhere safe to call home. And hope that wherever that is, they will be treat with the kindness and humanity that they deserve.