Eva-Jane and I will be off to Berlin on the 29th December, to spend new year in my homeland and to get my first taste of the place one-half of my family called home for many years.
Although I'm very excited to be going, I'm also rather embarrassed that it's taken this long to get round to exploring my German roots, that I am so very proud of. The Hoffmann part of my double-barrelled surname comes from my mum's side, the German side and Berlin was my Grandfather's home town, both pre and post World War II.
I can't wait to explore, to discover, to absorb the history and to walk the same streets Grandpa did.
The post title is a redux of a post I wrote back in March 2005 on this very blog, regarding Horst Hoffmann passing away, the words stolen from his son, my uncle Peter, who said them with a sort of whistful sense of nostalgia that I found very moving and inspiring.
I'm coming home.