Back in Gotham city

Ok, does this feel weird or what? This, dear friends, is actually the first blog I write in the privacy of my own house.
So how was the returning to casa Berggrensgatan? Pretty good, actually. The last week in France I couldn´t wait for Friday.
So the day of returning came and after having crap coffe in Brussels I sat down on the gate waiting to board and as more and more swedes joined me, it started to feel like I was already in Sweden. I saw all the typical swedish caracters: The bratty, blond buisssniess-men. The students, the family with three blond kids who are all slightly sunburned and the middle-aged woman in her practical clothes and Fjällräven rucksack.
When I was sitting on the plane back to Gothenburg, looking down on the coastline and the forests I could have jumped off there and then. I wanted to go down, so badly and meet my parents who I had no idea I loved so much.
And down I came, eventually. And there was a family with a father who baked kanelbullar for my arrival and a mother who had tears in her eyes when she saw me and a brother who´d grown so tall I barely rekognized him and who said: "Yeah, you´ve definetly gained some fat".
Back home I was treated with meatballs, fresh potatoes and salad and flowers on the table and a cat who ran away when she saw me. Nothing much had changed, except for the boiler-room in the basement which my weird brother had decorated in his own special way (disgusting sofa apparently bought for 5 euros by him and his bizarre friends, plus equally disgusting waterpipe in the middle of the room, surrounded by a fine collection of empty, one litre beer-glasses. It´s meant to be a sort of lounge area, my brother explained).
Yesterday, I took the first walk on town and was surprised to see that there were no freaks, nothing different, just a bunch of very normal and "lagom" people.
And suddenly, it started raining. I was back in Sweden.