Saturday was the kind of evening I haven't had in a while. Exhausted from sewing class I headed to a new cool-but-not-fancy restaurant somewhere near the hipster end of Chinatown. The Londoners were running slightly late so I started drinking first - it was a sticky evening so it was definitely a night for a sweet tropical fruit-flavoured cocktail. Eventually, they arrived. When we have a table this big (about 7) the conversation takes care of itself. I remark to myself how much our conversations have changed, and how much they stay the same. We do this about every six weeks, to keep our ties, redraw connections, and just hang out for old times' sake. Do they miss London as I do? Probably not all of us. Perhaps it was the days of freedom and glory. In many ways we have grown up, and in many ways being home has made us young again.