I remember this day vividly, although I wish I didn’t. After waking up in some fancy downtown hotel, we met Chris and Kayla for lunch at City, O City. They weren’t talking to each other as they had fallen out at work the night before. Standard behaviour. I had a gluten free BBQ tofu flatbread thing, which despite not being mad about either tofu or BBQ sauce, is one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. I scrambled about to load a new film to get one last final picture on my LC-A. I remember sitting in the car on the all-too-familiar journey to the airport, desperately racking my brain to find a practical way to tell Grace to just turn around and ditch my flight. Failing. Getting the wrong entrance to the airport and having to go round the whole system three times to find the parking area where Grace could walk me in and not just drop me off. Saying goodbye to a place and people that felt like home. Knowing it would be a long time before I would see them again.
I’m fed up of immigration law.