The plane gets in on time: a grey 6 a.m. Immigration, luggage retrieval and customs all negotiated without hitch, and on to the Tube. Out the window is England - strangely familiar after nearly four decades; terrace houses, green parks, communal allotments all speaking of past and present. I find myself grinning in the press of early morning commuters and wonder what Janine and Rod might make of my expression so at odds with those on the way to the daily grind.
Brandishing our oyster cards we change at Green Park, then surface at Vauxhall. A turn to the right and, with bags trundling at our heels, we find ourselves on South Lambeth Road and walk to the Comfort Inn. And all before 8:30! Which is, of course, much too early to check in, so it's leave the bags and out again.
What awaits us? Will it all be new and foreign or, heaven forbid, horribly familiar? Where will we find those things which speak of our commonality with people everywhere? Where will we be out of step and out of touch? Most of all - what will God look like in this strange land?
1 comment:
'Oyster cards'? Did you have to shell out for those?
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