January 2025: the transition to everyday life after 2.5 months walking the length of New Zealand . . . . . . . Marvelling at the wonder that is your very own flushing toilet . . . Hot Showers . Clean drinking water from a tap . . . . . . Sitting on Chairs . . . . . . Realising that you own an overwhelming number of clothes . . . . . . . . . . Remembering how to drive your car . . . Fresh Vegetables Every Day . . . . . . The first time you sit in front of a computer and it feels weird and you can’t quite control the mouse . Being inside all day is really strange . . . . . . Desperately trying to remember how to do your job before those around you start to question your abilities . Eating all the snacks in the break room tin and only noticing when your colleagues start to look at you with concern . . . Grief that it is over and that all that planning, dreaming and doing is now a part of your past . Joy that all that planning, dreaming and doing has been transformed into the most vividly amazing memories . Figuring out how to fit all those vividly amazing memories into an acceptably short answer to “did you have a good trip?” . . . . . . . . . . Realising that half the people you interact with barely noticed you’d been gone, and that their worlds are still the same . . . . . . Slotting back into this you-shaped hole and wondering if it still fits, or should it change? Planning the next one?