Endings and interludes

It's 5am and bloody hot. I'm back in Malaysia.

Arrived this afternoon, and while walking around in the airport I heard a shopkeeper speak to someone in Cantonese. Somehow that really struck me, and reminded me that I won't be hearing many British accents for a while. No "you're alright" or "cheers". No more Boots or Sainbury's (though there's a Tesco in Klang, but it sells local stuff).

No more cool weather; I'm going to be sweating, which means walking around will not be as enjoyable. No more 10pm sunshine; night descends fully by 8pm here. This especially jarring as I just went to Norway, where it never really became dark.

No more Cambridge, Christ's College and Staircase 4. No more barging into someone's room to chill; most of my friends in Malaysia live at least an hour away. And the great friends I've made in university are halfway around the globe. No more them.

Sitting in my living room I feel somehow detached from the fact that I will never be sitting in my room in Staircase 4 ever again, as if it hasn't really fully hit me yet. The 3 years in Cambridge were one of the best and most magical times in my life, and I can't believe that I will never relive them again.

A significant chapter of my life has ended. People keep reminding me that there will be other adventures in the future, other wonderful experiences, and I realise the absurdity of a guy in his early twenties dwelling upon endings, when his life is really only beginnning.

But nostalgia is my poison, and Cambridge has produced an exceptional vintage. So let me indulge.