Roaming the world to catch up with one's offspring is absolutely fabulous, no one can deny that!
And there is also something to be said about experiencing different foods, different cultures, meeting up with friends from long ago.. Nothing quite like it.
Travel allows for refreshing things - like having water all the time, having electricity all the time, driving on roads without needing a neck brace, only a Zimbo can equate with the delights therein!
But having said all that - there is just something special about being home.
Take, for example, a visit to our dentist, Diminutive Dudu. She is so tiny she once had to stand on the chair to undertake an extraction, but she remembers every single thing about you, even if dental visits are years apart. She's a tiny but mighty good dentist!
Then there is Little Lavender, enchanting and efficient. Lavender takes care of all a girls beauty necessities, like facials, waxing, pedicures, manicures, and the like.
Travel can introduce a girl to vast luxurious beauty salons, thirty armchairs with built-in back massagers, steamy hot foot baths, foaming with exotic unctions and lotions, champagne on ice and crystal chandeliers, yes indeed it's all very pretentious, but Lavender's small but elegantly appointed beauty parlour is petite and welcoming, just like Lavender herself.
One knows when one is home because the veggie vendors wave, the local gardeners, as they lean on their brooms whilst sweeping the verges clean, are exhilarated to have their neighbours home again. Even the street kids have grown up!
Having lived in exactly one suburb my whole life, I know every Jacaranda Tree, every blue headed lizard, and every security guard. No need to give our address when we have a delivery, everyone knows where we live!
Friends are sparse these days but always exactly the same. Always welcoming, open hearted, generous to a fault, but we have all been friends for so long, that absence, time and distance, know no bounds.
Going shopping is never a rushed affair. All the shopkeepers are keen to chat, and old acquaintances somehow always find you, even if you are trying to hide behind the cabbage counter. Count on an hour longer than intended!
You know exactly where the worst potholes are, which roads to avoid, and which traffic lights to keep away from.
Ah yes - there is indeed 'just something about home'.