All good things must come to an end. It is time to lock up our home in Madrid after a very long, sunny and hot summer. An average temperature of 36°C is what I call a real summer. Two thunderstorms in two months; I can live with that.
Lazy summer evenings sitting down for supper with my kids at 11pm. Animated dinner discussions entre amigos during the weekends when Expat hubby flew in from Paris, improvised aperitivos with the best neighbours you can wish for, girly lunches on the terrace when inevitably one or two of us end up in tears while spilling our souls, a dip in the pool when you feel like it - even at midnight - and of course lots of tanning sessions.
If this sounds too good to be true, well, guess why the whole family lost their hearts to this lifestyle?
If you are a lucky expat you get to go home over the long summer break, if you are real lucky you have a place called home which is your place of origin rather than residency. Our family opted for neutral ground and made a consciencious choice to call Madrid home. We had lived Spain only three years when duty called and we moved on to the next destination. However, we kept returning every summer staying with VERY patient and understanding friends until we finally decided that this is where we all felt most at home and hence turned it into our base and found a place of our own.
So here I am, feeling like an octopus hugging and hanging on to this lovely comfort zone but having to peal off one tentacle at a time with much effort and pain knowing that Monday it is back to reality.
But then again... how can I complain if my other reality is called Paris famous for its vie en rose?!?