BY ROBERT CATTO

The sky is calling. It's time to go.

There's no clearer sign that a trip is ending than the email from your airline saying 'check in online for your flight tomorrow!'

The packing has been going on all day; and at the same time, I'm drawn back to the details of where we are, the particulars of this place, which may or may not be here when I'm next in this country. So my focus is split between putting things in bags, and appreciating my surroundings one last time.

In 18h we'll be boarding; and just under a day later, we'll be back home on the far side of the world. We'll stop being the people in the house, and go back to being the people in that photo on the wall, that picture on the fridge, that Christmas card on the counter - for my parents, in their house, we'll be memories; not reality.

But for us, we've got a few hours with friends before all of that happens. One last blast, out on the town for dinner, to forget about the folding of clothes, forget deciding what to wear on the plane, forget setting the combinations on new locks, for bags we didn't need on the way here.

For tonight, we're still here, still present, still off the wall, still in the room - still real.

One more night, then we fly. It's time.

But...not quite yet.