Home. Where the cat is not speaking to us after abandoning her to random carers for what must feel to her like the second weekend in so many weeks. We have a latch-key cat, looked after by just about any available neighbour while we travel Eastern Europe on Ryanair for no money.

I found Bratislava airport a depressing place, largely because as the currency of Slovakia is Euros, there was no reason/excuse to spend the remaining change in my purse on beer and foul tasting chocolate – even at 8.30am in the morning (which I am wont to do in an effort to relieve myself of unwanted foreign currency, and all in the name of ‘contributing to the Economy’).

As we sat in the departure gate bit, I remarked to Nige that I did not want a naughty child sitting behind me on the flight, the one who was at that moment running amok and shouting to his mother at the top of his voice from the other end of the terminal. The mother (who looked perfectly respectable), was however studiously trying to ignore the shouts of her offspring, much to the consternation of the 150 or so other people squished into an area about the size of my living room.

Oh happy days; my intolerance and general morning grumpiness at the antics of said random child came back to haunt me, as the mother wearily hauled her small son into the seats behind us. Now, I’m not sure quite how many seats were on the plane (and I frankly can’t be bothered to Wiki it, seeing as I’m the only person actually reading this…), but what were the odds of the exact same child sitting in the exact same seat behind me? Maybe it was karma, and it will certainly teach me not to think bad thoughts about the behaviour of stranger’s children. I largely spent the flight ignoring the kicking I was getting through the seat, and being poked through the gap between seats. I was being punished. No doubt.

So, a little under two and a half days, and we are back home, having crossed another country off the list and pissed off the cat.

I do know that having a ‘country crossing off mentality’ is not truly helping me to experience a country – especially when the time we have is spent solely in the capital city and not seeing the ‘real’ Slovakia/Riga/Norway/Wherever. But, I don’t have enough time in my life (or money) to do it all properly. So a girl has to take what she can. Right?