Between a rock and a hard place...

What a day. Quandries of indecision. Bucketsful. 
Feel free to read no further.

A while ago I promised my bro I'd be home for Christmas. We haven't seen each other for more than two years. Recent news regarding Omicron variant (a case in Essex) now means that I just don't know what to do - not because of Covid,  but because of international travel restrictions that may or may not be imposed in the coming days. I mean, Boris is hardly known for his constancy or ability to keep his word....  and I obviously don't want to spend Christmas alone in Chelmsford in unexpected quarantine. 

After much angst I decided to go home early enough to do a ten day quarantine if need be, and still be clear by Christmas Eve, then realized that this means very soon as apparently, it's only 48 hours until December. Then of course, there's the issue of what if Turkey gets antsy and changes her laws so I can't come back... what about Harry?  and so I sat for much of today ruminating on just about every possible, and impossible scenario - because it's the not knowing that is so difficult to deal with. Will it ever end?  

By mid afternoon I decided the best way forward was to book/buy a flight whilst I still can, as losing the flight is the least worst scenario if it all goes pear shaped. So, with more trepidation than joy, I have bought a one way ticket from Izmir to Stansted for Friday 10th December. 

Fortunately, Graham rescued me from my turmoil by suggesting going to the Taj Mahal in Didim for dinner, which we did, followed by a pint at My Bar. 

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