One year ago today our plane landed at Heathrow.

We had no jobs, no car, no bank account, no phones, and no fixed address.

Getting all of the above was a rather exhausting process. Specially the bank account, oddly enough. I pity money launderers, really I do - getting a bank account in the UK is practically impossible for regular law-abiding citizens, so I shudder to imagine the hurdles that the criminal fraternity must have to surmount.

But, one year on, all that stress is behind us, and we are starting to feel as though we live here.

This time next year, I hope that we are safely ensconced in our new house, that we have organised a decent book group (I still miss our Orlando book group terribly), that we have managed to make a trip out to South Africa, and that we have no plans to move anywhere.