Home again, in another strange town

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!
    -- John Howard Payne
         (1791 - 1852)

"I'm home."

That was my reaction when I turned the corner and saw the familiar outline of my soon-to-be lodgings here in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. This was the first time those words have actually come to mind upon arrival; but they ring true.

As I've moved back and forth from Pacific to Mountain time, through higher and higher lattitudes, from winter to spring, back to winter and, finally this week into spring again, the constants in life have been my Saturn and the Holiday facility du jour.

The amenities are predictably luxurious, the staff is predictably responsive and considerate and my fellow residents are predictably friendly and fascinating.

Travellers have a set of needs that, for those who can afford quality lodgings, transform into expectations. But no luxury hotel offers the kind of community atmosphere that I'm finding in the retirement facilities I occupy along my route.

I know, for example, that there will be laundry rooms that are maintained daily in immaculate fashion where, with no need for coins or rolling baskets nor any competition for the machines. I know there is at least one library, a computer lab and any number of comfortable chairs and couches throughout the complex for relaxing and reading.

I know that meals will be served on time and that they will be nutritious and tasty. I know that I will have a choice of dinner companions who almost invariably will provide interesting conversation during a leisurly meal.

I know that my room will be clean and comfortable, with a small refrigerator, television, coffee maker and other features. I'll have a clean bathroom with fresh towels and other supplies.

Yes, it's like going home -- except a bit more like visiting relatives who won't allow me to help with the cooking, dishes, cleaning or any other domestic tasks. And like meeting hundreds of relatives I've never known before. There is a sort of natural tendency to like these folks despite the fact that we have little in common.

Whether it's in the U.S. or Canada, I've discovered home away from home in every place I've stopped.

Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.
    --Charles Dickens, Martin Chuzzlewit, 1844