Culture shock....

After a pleasant two days relaxing and sleeping off the jet lag at my family home in Crewe, I am on a train headed south to my city centre flat in Brighton.

For the past three weeks I have fought hard to sleep in past 6am. It is a constant battle to find the silence in amongst the growl of motorbikes, barking dogs, clanging of metal, and continuous bell ringing. Back in the UK, however, there is nothing to disturb your sleeping. Not to the same extent anyway. The loudest noise from the streets that surround my home in Crewe, for example, would be a hum of a lawnmower. Peace. 

Choosing a delicious lunch at The Combermere Arms in Burleydam.

My return seemed to have brought the good weather with it, or at least continued it. Waking up to a nice cool 21 degrees (celsius) was heaven - not too hot, but enough to warrant lunch in a rustic beer garden with my friend Laura. We settled down and I ordered a steak burger to munch on. In Nepal, cows are most certainly off the menu, so a delicious beef steak cannot be found for love nor money. Now, you may be thinking: "That isn't right, I've been to Nepal and they have beef burgers on the menu everywhere!" They do sell burgers in Nepal, yes. But do not be fooled into thinking that the restauranteur has slaughtered a sacred cow just to satisfy your stomach. The burger in front of you will taste decidedly un-beef-like, and is likely to be either Yak or Buffalo. But as tasty as these two meats are, they can't compare to a rare and juicy ribeye.

The steak burger went down an absolute treat, and the drive in the sunshine through the Cheshire countryside to the pub was a delight. After lunch, we both decided to visit the famous Snugbury's ice cream farm for dessert. It would have been very rude not to! I first chose their Raspberry Pavlova flavour, but it was unfortunately sold out! Instead I opted for my usual favourite - Banana Caramel. There is no ice cream in the world that is better than two scoops of frozen goodness from Snugbury's. I purchased a sharing tub of Honeycomb flavour for my Dad, and headed off to Northwich to see him.

Driving along the English roads, I kept expecting someone to shoot round me, hooting all the way. This didn't happen, and was a little difficult to get back used to after so long in the crazy traffic of Kathmandu. I was also careful to stick to all the rules of the road, as I had been immersed in Nepali road culture for so long that it would have been easy to just make it all up as I went along. It was a welcome feeling to be back amongst drivers that were, more often than not, prepared to stay on their own side of the road.

Dad enjoying his Nepali hat.

Both my Dad and step-Dad received traditional Nepali hats as gifts from me. I was fully expecting them to laugh appreciatively, try them on, and then just keep them as interesting mementos. How wrong I was. Both men absolutely loved their new hats. Dad plonked it on his head and wore it for a long time, claiming that the 'little Nepali hat' had given him new powers (and he even sang a little song about the hat whilst he washed up dinner), and Keith was in his element. The hat stayed on all night, through thick and thin, and even survived a full change of clothes. It was quite scary how much he loved it. I would not be surprised if he had slept in the hat that night. 

So now I am back on an air-conditioned Virgin train, bound for London Euston. England is an entirely different world compared to Nepal - better in some ways, but not in others. All I know is that it is good to be home.