Two seats to myself, the best view of Holland disappearing beneath the cloud, PLUS free coffee and cake! And now I’m... home? Yesterday Amsterdam was home, but being back in England is strangely comforting. As the rolling fields and farmlands settled around me, I felt myself relaxing into it. In the heartbeat of the tracks and miles passing, and the view of autumn’s warm reds and browns from the train window, I realised that I had unshouldered the burden of being a stranger, of not belonging. The unknown is more familiar here. I can talk to strangers again without an almost crippling awareness of what language it’s in. Nobody’s going to look at me sideways for apologising once too often. There aren’t habits I’m trying to break or customs I’m trying to learn. I’m not caught between wanting to be myself freely and confidently, and what I have to change to best adapt to my new home. Places are parts of us. It’s given me some things to think about when I get back home to Amsterdam, but for now I’m just going to enjoy this kind of freedom.