It’s been six years now since we left London, which was our home for six years. So much has happened in that time. Two months volunteering on a husky farm in far northern Finland (Hetta Huskies), travelling on the Trans Mongolian from Moscow to Beijing, via Siberia and Mongolia. Then our final journey home via China, Laos and India.

We lived in sunny Sydney for three years, but just couldn’t find our place there. Spent two months in Bali, which we adored, and have been living in Byron Bay for nearly three years, welcoming our little Layla into the family and riding the huge highs and lows of parenthood. In that time, both pre and post Layla, we’ve also travelled to Sri Lanka, Singapore, Vietnam, Cambodia and Japan for holidays, to Hong Kong for my husband to coach at a running camp and held two Mile 27 running camps in New Zealand.

All that sounds so busy and exciting, and don’t get me wrong I am so grateful for the opportunities and experiences. But of course there have also been many periods of boredom. Of feeling stuck, wondering where life would take us next, finding a new identity as a mother and trying to decide what I wanted to do in the world of work (and find time amidst the mothering to focus on this). I wondered at times if my desire to travel was just my way of escaping the ‘real world’ of running away from problems, putting off decisions and escaping the mundane and messiness of life.

To be honest since leaving London I have felt like a bit of a drifter. Not quite able to put down roots or work out where my place is in the world. I have been longing to return to London to visit. But both the desire to discover new places and, I think perhaps the fear of what I might discover when I return, have stopped me from making my way back. What if I discovered I no longer liked the place, or that I loved it so much I wanted to return? Moving back to the other side of the world is a big and scary prospect, especially as if we did it, it would be a somewhat permanent move.

But with a new adventure around the corner now feels like precisely the right time to be rediscovering London and Europe. Who knows what is around the corner … and what life might become. For the first few years after having Layla venturing across the world seemed like far too exhausting and frightening a prospect. But now, I am returning to London full of excitement, at visiting old friends, walking the streets I so came to love, discovering my old home with a different perspective … that of a toddler holding my hand, eager for me to show her new, exciting and wonderful things.

And to wander the city with camera in hand, making sure to take more pictures. For we lived in London in the time before smart phones and Instagram. When carrying your big camera around seemed like a chore and was saved for only special occasions.

But first, we must survive the flight … with said toddler by our sides!