The news channels have five lines of pointless text, relegating the actual visual to a corner of the screen. The Sunday papers are down to 28 pages, with a quarter of them just full of ads. Those working at the Souk and the Shamiana are are universally grateful, with nary a sneer in sight. The buildings get taller and taller. Some dividers now have plants in them. And several old haunts are now merely extinct.

But....the crowds on trains are still a seething mass of elbows, sweaty shirts and chameli tel-seeped hair. The traffic is still the real-life equivalent of dodgem cars. The sun is still bloody hot this side of the world. The hawkers still rend the mid-afternoon peace with drawn out promises of a plentiful bounty. The old neighbours still spend their evenings in quiet contemplation while staring at the passing world. And the crows still haven't forgotten how to wake you up at 4am with their daily chorus.

The little things, baby. They're still the same.

PS. Travelling back home means three things - family, friends, food. Posts will be infrequent, comments rarer. The backlog of unread posts is a task best left for newer times.