When I arrived home after twenty-four hours of travelling, there was a present sitting on my bed. I don't know about you, but that's just about the nicest thing to come home to. Forget the hot shower, ignore the crooning spouse; gifts - quiet, unassuming things waiting patiently just for you - are what it's all about.

What was in the gift? Heh.

My overseas adventure was fairly remarkable. It was great to see and stay with some old friends and, while I think London has a lot to answer for, I couldn't help but enjoy myself. It's certainly a city with a hefty stick up its arse, a city which has assimilated foreign culture into its own identity so effectively that no one quite remembers how anything used to be except for one brave, old building near Trafalgar Square which still proclaims proudly the stone-engraved manifesto, 'Extending friendship to all English-speaking nations'.

I saw most of the tourist attractions and ticked off everything on my to-do list. Knightsbridge and Hyde Park were lovely, but I didn't have my first 'Wow!' moment until Christmas. Being in Europe, it's extremely affordable to jump from one country to another; for my birthday Andrew got us two tickets to Norway. Granted, we flew in an aeroplane which could only stay airborne by the grace of flapping passengers, but hey, a penny saved...

Anyway, Norway was incredibly beautiful. We landed in Oslo-torp, a two-hour bus trip from the city itself. Iconic lakes of ice, fields of snow, barns and smoking chimney-stacks; it was quite a scenic drive. The city itself was gorgeous in a rustic sort of way, doubley-so because of the season. Local council seemed to hold nothing back when loosing Christmas decorations upon the unsuspecting city. Chains of Christmas lights, golden bells, looping Christmas carols in the streets; it was the kind of place I'd always dreamed about as a child.

The experience only increased in beauty; snowy mountains, purified icy air, way-laid castles above the bay, a midday sun peaking just above the horizon so that everything glowed like it was the afternoon, all of it culminating in an incredible evening of ice-skating on a paved square in the city centre in front of Parliment house.

Then back to gritty London for my birthday and New Year's Eve. Went to the British Museum (AAAH~! Cleopatra!) and wax museum (when immortalising Amy Winehouse, they did not give her even a speck of dignity to while away the decades) then to the Thames for the incredibly unimpressive credit-crunch fireworks. By this time, the trip was about over and there was nothing left but to hop a twenty-hour flight (with a four-hour stop in Singapore) back to old Brisbane town.

Anthony

PS: So what was the gift? Let's just say he's named 'We Are The Night' and he likes to be touched. =X