Coming home, how sweet?

Have said a sad goodbye to family in Wales. Time to pack and head home. To what?

SA websites tell us the gist. Taxi protests in mid-town. Bus service comes to a stop and main roads blocked, preventing legitimate traffic from entering shopping centres and main arterials. More train coaches set alight.

And nationally, trade unions threaten president Ramaphosa should he trim the civil service to help cut costs to the good of the overall economy. The new chief of NPA to replace Shaun Abrahams has a criminal case pending against him. A good start, eh? So, nothing changes and expectations of prosecuting the real baddies who helped the Guptas capture the state under a weak-kneed president come to nil.

Stories of murder, rape and violent protests continue unabated.

The thought of extending our break in the UK is tempting. OK, so it has its problems. There is crime, but nowhere near ours - and it's being addressed and perpetrators are being caught and imprisoned. Compared to our explosive political situation, there it's mild and handled through parliamentary debate often very heated, with no verbal holds barred, and a venomous media following suit - but it doesn't lead to uncultured behaviour. And no thought of murdering opponents.

And there are still places where you can leave your car unlocked. Travelling by train we witnessed passengers leaving their open handbags and laptops on their seats when going to the toilet or food coach. So, we ask, what's left to come home to? First off, a friendly response from passport officers at our airports (unlike those abroad). A cheery "Sawubona" is music to our ears, having had a month of foreign unpronounceable dialects.

A beaming tour bus operator, transporting us from the airport to our home town, firmly grips your hand in greeting, not a clammy weak effort. He assists you with the luggage, another trait not seen abroad - there you struggle on your own, even in hotels and B&Bs.

Then on arrival at the terminus, there are our dear neighbours to give us a lift to the complex.

And no sooner than putting our key into the front door lock, the landline phone rings. Other neighbours saying, "Welcome home, we missed you guys". More calls follow with similar sentiments.

And not forgetting the excited barks and licks from our pups when picking them up from their "holiday home". Animal-loving receptionists at the SPCA join in the happy reunion.

Simple things. Precious moments. Good enough reasons for coming home.