Ah, Home.

You can never go back, they say. But I would disagree with them. I have now lived in three other places and travelled the world twice, but I still call the small country town of my childhood home.

I am here for only a few nights, yet already the worries of the world and the weight of tension have left me. Aaah, home.

I love this place.

We ate takeaway, drank wine and played Trivial Pursuit with old friends last night.

Manning Point, NSW

We went fishing and watched the sunset in the briskness of a winter afternoon (we caught ten very small fish: eight brim, two puffer fish, much to the excitement of all) today.

*Sigh*. Life is full of simple pleasures in the land of my childhood. I lived here for the first eighteen years of my life, and have always come home frequently. It is my life source, and all ills heal if I return. My power charger, the battery that keeps my spirit intact.

If you want to see more of the little cottage where we are staying, go here.

And tomorrow we leave. We head to Sydney via a Newcastle luncheon, and more reunions with good friends. I will probably enjoy Sydney, it was home for the second part of my life: University, career, partying. The second eighteen years. But that is another story, and in all liklihood, another post this week.