When I went to live in England with my sister, our mum made it quite clear: “You can go and live wherever you please, but at Christmas you have to be at home.” – and so it has been ever since. Some years just a couple of days, a hurry almost, some other years I spent weeks of festivities and re-charging batteries at home.
And so, just two days after coming back from Sicily, I packed my bags again (full of Panettone, Torrone, Italian sweets and coffee) as it was time to fly home for Christmas. ❤
I love this time of the year! Even tough it wasn’t cold enough in Rome and not anywhere near snowy, one could feel the hustle of the last days before Christmas and even at the airport the mood seemed different to me – or maybe I am just projecting my own expectations onto everyone else.
Christmas at home is almost a sacred ritual for me. I know exactly who we have lunch and dinner with what days and when and where we celebrate. It hasn’t changed in years and I find it very reassuring and calming. It’s almost as if those couple of days follow a meticulous plan (full of traditions and food) which has never really been established, it just happened and now it’s there and everyone follows it. 🙂
The days in between Christmas and New Year’s were full of friends, snow, baking and happy doing nothing. I like it when being home is “nothing special”, as in: the way it always used to be, nothing extraordinary or exceptional.
On the 31st of December Gonzo came to visit and in the early morning I went to pick him up at the Salzburg airport. We spent a lovely “boring” New Year’s Eve with my family, my grandmas competed in cooking traditional dishes for us, we went sledge riding, had walks and photo shoots in the snow and Gonzo insisted on learning how to ski – and he did really well, considering he’s a Spaniard who’s not used to snow! 😉 In short, we had a couple of super cozy wintery holiday-days.
And after those wintery days in Austria we went to London – but that’s another story and shall be told in another blogpost.