Every bit as hot and humid as I had remembered, although there wasn’t the horrible feeling of walking into a steaming cloud of water vapor when I walked onto the airbridge.

I swear, the guy at immigration seemed to recognize me. “Are you the - ?” he started. I just smiled at him, and he broke out into a knowing grin as he returned me my passport, waving me past the checkpoint.

In between bouts of pigging out, I’ve been helping my mum digitize all our old photos. Man, those were the days.