The (Guilt) Trip To Africa

Through the carriage window intermittent sunshine flicks across my face.  Outside, a stiff breeze is blowing the trees and up in the sky driving clouds to distraction: when they collide, rain sheets down onto the fields.  I'm staring out at a washed green blur interrupted by the staccato rhythm of dark tunnels.  This is the southeastern Saturday morning train rattling up the well worn rail lines to London.  

The stations are familiar to me these days:  Chatham; Rochester, full of castle and bridge; Bromley South, London Victoria.  I look down onto homes, schools and businesses nestling close to the elevated tracks.  It's a very English morning, I decide.  A wet summer, but summer none the less.

Two weeks ago I landed in England.  Two weeks to catch up with friends and family - new and old.  I have had a superb time and immersed myself in fond surroundings with food, drink, friendship and laughter.  Tick. 

They don't try to disguise the charms of life off the road.  I'm enticed by tales of happy families, satisfying employment, trouble-free motoring and exciting weekends.  What's not to like?  'All this could be yours...' the refrain seems to go, a siren song drawing me back to the shores of my birth.  Leaving all this behind, again, is hard.  My parents hang from my heart, tugging on its strings with every look, delicate word or half-halted gesture.  It feels cruel to leave.

The urge to quit my motorcycle trip and settle down here in England is strong.  This country is my homeland.  Yet, it's an urge I recognise and cannot trust - at least, not yet.  'No pain, no gain' - a clichéd mantra I repeat to spur myself on.  For the last year and more, I've driven my motorcycle and myself 50,000-odd miles and I want to finish what I started.  So, paradoxically, the more I want to stay in England, the more I need to leave.  I feel smothered and flee to rejoin my motorcycle.  

Another aim of my fleeting visit to England?  To feel refreshed and eager for more travel.  I've been on holiday from my, er, holiday lifestyle, but as the train pulls into London I'm already excited at the prospect of more adventure.  My giant Bavarian bike has already landed in Cape Town, South Africa and should be sitting patiently.  It's time to begin the third and concluding leg of my long journey.