Today it is March 28th – a date that will be forever etched into my mind.
The reason is that it was the date, in 2012, that I zipped up my suitcase and headed off to Sydney airport for a flight to the UK … only this time, clutching a one-way ticket and lugging all my remaining possessions with me.
Perhaps lost in all the drama surrounding the impending arrival of the tempest that was St Jude’s storm, last weekend also marked that annual ritual of putting the clocks back.
Overnight, journeys home from work, previously undertaken in a sort of weak, dappled sunlight, were suddenly plunged into premature darkness with the prospect of this scenario continuing for another 5 months or so.
This weekend sees the Glastonbury 2013 take place down in deepest Somerset, one of the most iconic music festivals in the world, let alone Britain.
I’ve been struck by how many different music festivals there are on the English summer calendar, catering for just about every life stage and musical taste, but ‘Glasto’ remains the jewel in the crown.
When I returned to the UK a little over a year ago, there had been an unseasonably warm March and as result, Spring had well and truly sprung by the time I stepped off the plane.
This year, the reverse is true with a cold March and April ensuring that nature spent a little longer tucked up in bed than normal, thus delaying the time when I get to experience my first English Springtime for many years.
It’s March 28th tomorrow. Just a regular date in the diary eh?
Sure, some may celebrate the birthdays of actor Vince Vaughan, ex-cricketer Nasser Hussain or all round loon Lady Gaga, not to mention Teachers Day in Czech Republic and Slovakia or Serf’s Emancipation Day in Tibet, but for most it is a pretty ordinary date.