The last day of August was our last day in our beloved Toronto. We had nothing left to hold us there - no job, no home, no belongings save our suitcases... We may have done this three times before already, but you can never get rid of this very strange feeling of being in a most uncertain limbo, with sadness for what won't be anymore and nervousness about what the future will hold.
So what do you do when the present is hurling you mercilessly towards the future? You accept inevitability, that's what you do. So I ordered one of my favourite beers - a Wellington Imperial Russian Stout:
We toasted in the plane with Italian sparkling wine (sorry about the Pringles, but that's all the snacks they had!):
And we finally saw through the window the unmistakable luminous sprawl that Mexico City is. Home, no doubt. But not quite home. Home was Toronto. And before Toronto, home was Beijing. And before Beijing - Beirut. And before Beirut - Mexico City. We've come full circle. We're not the same ones that left, and this is not the same city we left. Home, yet not home yet.