No longer a tourist

The moment comes when you realise that you are no longer looking around you with the eyes of a stranger. Since getting back from New Zealand on Monday I'm increasingly aware that we have probably begun to cross that bridge of behaving a bit like we are tourists on holiday in a new city to a being actually resident.

The first clue I had was talking to work colleagues about bringing Jon's skateboard through the Australian equivalent of MAF inspectors. In describing the tense moment where we wondered if his decidedly scruffy wooden deck and slightly rusted wheels would get through I said "I was really worried what would happen if he couldn't take it home after bringing it all that way". I even paused after I said it, realising that even a week ago I would have probably phrased it differently with NZ being home e.g. "he couldn't get it into the country after bringing it from home".

Then a couple of evenings later we were walking through the central city (on a mission to get new grip tape for scruffy skateboard) and I was thinking what a lovely evening it was, and how nice it would be to have dinner in one of the sidewalk cafes around the corner from our apartment. This was of course while all my NZ friends were discussing heavy wind and rain. But again there was no mental comparison - this compared to that - it just was.

There are lots of other little things as well - the jigsaw puzzle of the main routes we travel falling into place so we now only use the GPS if we are going somewhere totally new. The weekend routines moving to something a bit more laid back, as opposed to "what shall we go and see today". Jon beginning to have friends over and starting to tell me he can go places by himself e.g. "we can catch the bus into town and go to the movies" (yeah right!) The scenery as I drive to work just being what it is rather than jarring slightly because the trees are wrong. I even managed to remember this weekend that the supermarket closes at 5pm on a Saturday (I kid you not - it ain't all better!)

And I guess that's a pretty big step to feeling "at home"