We decided to stick around.
To walk in the community garden.
To peruse the market (Andrew bought a Marek Wilinski print and I bought a hat). To buy drinks. To sit on the lawn wriggling our toes in the sun, to read the quotes on the pavements, and pretended we were inner-city yuppies for a while.
Eventually, it was time to come home. The streets widened, as if by magic, the houses swelled, the pavements emptied of all but the ordinary, as Ventura buses wound their way past tidy suburban homes, once more.
We were almost there.
Only one thing necessary to make our transition complete.