Claremorris Station, 0743am

Today I return home, alone, the wife and kids staying on for another three weeks. I go back to work tomorrow.

Going "home" for me is always an emotional minefield. For one, I'm going home not to the country of my nurture, Scotland, but rather the country of my nature, Holland. As I don't really consider Holland "home" (I lived the majority of my life in Scotland) going home isn't really going home as such, more going to someone else's home. When I'm in Holland I feel like a tenant, temporarily borrowing a strangers home until I really go home.

I don't want to labour the analogy; you get the point I'm sure.

All this means that this journey, an every journey to Holland has me in a foul mood from start to end. I've no patience for the English family on the bus to the airport, talking pish to their kids, and pish in general, their stupid and ill-informed comments making me want to smack their curly-haired kids in the face. And my skin crawls when, sitting at the gate tapping this out on my iPhone, I hear the first of many Dutch voices.

There will be many more before I put the key in the front door tonight and a few days until I adjust to being back "home".

Every journey starts with the first step. Apropos of which, today's Blip is of Claremorris Station in the West of Ireland where this latest journey began.

I loved the symmetry of the lines, pointing the way home. Wherever that is.