Somehow the noughties began with us walking home along the Embankment in London at 4am on the morning of the new Millennium in evening dress, and ended with us living in a desert thousands of miles from everyone and everything we knew and loved. How did that happen? The entire decade is a bit of a blur, come to think of it - not for any terribly exotic reason, just because it was really busy. The pilot decided he was going to be a pilot, we sold our home so that he could train in Spain. We travelled round the world, lived overseas, had two children while he built up his flying hours. Meanwhile, I worked as a travel writer, set up an art consultancy, started writing a novel and ... and the whole trip felt like I was a passenger on a rollercoaster, (trying desperately not to let the children, cats, hamsters and hounds fall out of their seats along the way). There have been great highs, and some terrible lows. But that's life, and the rollercoaster is still riding. How about you?