Train Tickets to Worcester (and I feel like i'm over the water)

I'm not sure where last week went. Surely not a week has gone by since I last wrote here? What has happened to time anyway?

Time has much occupied me these last few days. I re-established contact with a childhood friend I've not seen or heard from for close on 30 years, and this weekend, I return to Worcester for a weekend...

Worcester.
We all have places in our lives that will forever hold a powerful resonance over us. I am lucky in having more than one (Scotland being the other of course). Those places where the person you are now was forged. Life changing events, for good or bad, that you couldn't, back then, guess would have such a long lasting effect...
I have gone back to Worcester since leaving there in the summer of 1999, this was nearly four years ago, the November of 2006. A strange return trip... for a place that holds so much meaning for me, there was no real feeling when I went back there. I had a nice time of course, and Worcester is a pleasant city, but it was like I had never lived there. The anti-climactic nature of returning? Perhaps. But going back to Scotland five years ago (a return trip which had a profound effect on me) and even going back to the drab confines of West London four years ago held something for me, some memory, some ghost.
Why hadn't Worcester?
I've thought about it a lot over the last four years. I don't know why. Maybe it was the fact that I lost my glasses on my first morning there, and couldn't really see much that weekend... until 20 minutes before leaving, where they were found in a place I had searched (we had all searched) numerous times.
Curious in itself.
This time feels different though, and I can't quite fathom out why. Butterflies in the stomach, the kind you get when you're on a ropeswing over a river, and you launch yourself off the bank.
That moment over the water, for the first time.
It feels like that anyway.
There was so much unresolved about Worcester when I left. Loose threads which can't be picked up again. A hauned place. A haunting place.
Not that I mind ghosts of course.
So much unsaid, undone, unknown.
The unconsummated city.

It will be nice to see Worcester anyway, whatever happens.

Post-script: my apologies for comments unanswered, particularly Nadja, the Scrybe and Ingrid. This shall be remedied forthwith.

Forthwith?
What does that mean anyway?

Ah well...