We made it back across the hallowed EU border, Sanja coughed up for a PCR test and I promised that we had no alcohol of fags on board and that was it, waved through. A relief for us, you never know what they might do to you at such border crossings but my relief is always tempered by my sense of guilt that the knowledge of what happens to refugees at such crossings is always infinitely worse.
So a quick reccy of the kitchen brought the joyous news that all my mugs had stayed on their shelves despite the big earthquake only 75km away a few weeks ago and the numerous smaller ones that followed it.
It was damn cold the first night and my desire to not use the wood burning stove heater anymore soon gave way to my desire to remain unfrozen. Sanja was refusing to come out from under the two layers of duvets covering our bed! Lots of emails, ebay and etsy for me to catch up on meant Sanja had to drag me outside for a walk.
We set up Sanja’s laptop with my projector and watched a few things on her Netflix account. Our eyes still firmly “squared” from all the “TV” gawping we did in Belgrade it felt a bit like taking methadone to come off heroin. Pretend it’s a City was however a suprising joy to watch. Whilst having one of our potentially dangerously divisive discussions about what to watch next I remembered having just listened to Radio 4’s Soul Music programme all about David Bowie’s Life on Mars song! Sanja is nothing if not a anglophile when it comes to “telly” and so I dug out some old discs with Life on Mars avi’s downloaded on to them. To my suprise they have played nicely in the DVD player and so that last few nights we have been transported back to Machester, 1973 courtesy of the BBC drama and Sanja is learning all kinds of language that I hope she doesn’t repeat when we get to play scrabble with my fathers friends!!
Then it snowed, properly and we got to finally have a proper snow ball fight!