The view from our motel window in New Zealand is gorgeous. Just 30 metres from where I am writing this lies the Bay of Plenty, with small boats gently bobbing on its clear waters. Earlier today, we went kayaking in the bay and were startled by a large flying fish that jumped out of the sea right in front of us.
Despite this beautiful scene, just an hour's drive from Auckland, I find myself increasingly distracted by thoughts of what awaits us back home in Britain.
When my family and I left Beijing, where we had lived for 71/2 years, for a five-month trip before starting a new life back in Britain, it seemed we had forever. But now we are on the verge of returning home, and I cannot help but worry a little.
We have been on the road for more than four months, travelling through Bali and Australia before our final stop in New Zealand. The trip has brought many memorable experiences. But as it draws to a close, more mundane matters crowd my mind.
Will my husband Michael and I earn enough to support the family, especially as we return to a country in the economic doldrums? Will he be able to finish his book about China? Can I afford to settle our children, Sam, eight, and Tilly, five, properly before turning my mind to full-time work? How will the kids adapt to York, a beautiful but small city, after living most of their lives in the huge metropolis that is Beijing? And will life be as interesting as it was in China?
Beijing is often in our thoughts. We miss Wang Liying, the children's nanny for four years. We hope she will visit us next year, but sadly, Tilly seems to have already forgotten a lot of her Putonghua, so they may not be able to talk much if she comes.