Back in Australia for a week now and it feels so easy. Like I just walked through a door in Yorkshire and sat down to tea with an old friend.

Which of course edits out the long hours of missed connections, rerouted luggage, emergency shopping, trips back for cases and last minute cramped airline seats. Maybe it’s like childbirth, you just forget the painful bits.

So it seems seamless, going straight from Sydney airport to Sandy’s front room, which is full of old mates and warm conversations – about everything. Heart feels full of friendship.

Sunday morning I catch up with other friends in Katoomba, talk about writing over lunch with Elizabeth and check into the grand  Hydro Majestic. This is the view from my window:

The weather is wet and cool but the mountains emerge from the mist on Monday and I manage to get to Pulpit rock and Perry’s lockdown without a drenching.

Visits to  favourite cafes for meals with mates in Wentworth Falls, Mellow Bath, Blackheath. A child giggles for joy at the next table and everyone smiles. It is a pleasure being at home here but I don’t regret leaving