It's been over a week. I'm in Adelaide, all the furniture I own is in Adelaide, which means I once again live in Adelaide. As if I couldn't tell, with all the red ribbon on trees, affordable CBD parking, cloudy ice-cubes and closed supermarkets in the evenings.

Honestly, I'm not sure exactly how I feel about my return to the place I grew up. Not to confuse this with uncertainty about why we moved back, the rationality and outcomes of which I'm completely happy with. An adjustment period is going to exist regardless of satisfaction, and rumination about this period will always occur in such situations for people like me.

Returning to Adelaide has not felt like a return "home". It feels nothing like that first bowl of Weet Bix and milk after a month-long overseas trip. This is not Adelaide's fault, or Sydney's fault, or a fault at all really. In my set of circumstances the experience of moving and living and working in another state has redefined the way I think about the word "home". Three years ago Adelaide felt like home because when I was in its geographical area I felt safe, sheltered and competent. Essentially by being in Adelaide the first 60% of the Maslow Needs Hierarchy was taken care of for me by default. I knew that if I was ever sick, wet, cold, lonely, unemployed or hungry I could solve any of those problems with proven steps that I had confidence would work. In the rest of the world, beyond Adelaide, I had no such guarantee. This is deeply significant to people's psychology. I theorised, obviously, that I would be capable of renting a house, buying groceries and finding a hairdresser in other places on the Earth but it was unproven and I think that's why Adelaide felt like "home".

Moving to Sydney, re-registering my car, changing jobs, driving on toll roads and getting same-day CT scans for free - these things shifted my perception. Now there was a new place where I was fortunate enough to make esteem my primary goal in life. Did this make Sydney feel like "home", replacing Adelaide? Absolutely not. Sydney never felt like "home". What this experience did do was train me that I could make anywhere home. I had the mental and physical skills to relocate to any city and survive. "Home" was no longer Adelaide. "Home" was wherever I chose it to be, assuming that the population spoke English and the culture was western and I had some form of internet connection at most times.

I have been asked a few times now what it feels like to be "home." This has caused me to cultivate these thoughts. As I said, moving back to Adelaide doesn't feel like returning home. Moving back to Adelaide has felt like moving from the living room of my house to the dining room of my house. The world had become my home.

I spent a tiny, yet meaningful portion of my weekend learning to play a song on the piano. Where the sheet music would normally have sat I instead had a smartphone. Its touch-screen was streaming an online video telling me which keys to press. The song which invisible network transmissions were teaching me was a Bay Area hip-hop beat. It felt satisfyingly twenty-first century.

What did I achieve today? Bagels. The doughy things that look like zeroes. Bagels are one of the greatest discoveries I had while overseas. I understand what they mean about travel giving you a more profound, philosophical view of the world.

Bagels are surprisingly simple to make at home. You only need patience, as there is a lot of waiting. You also need flour, sugar and yeast. The rest of what you put in is up to you but in my opinion it's the seasoning that really makes the difference. What did I learn today about bagels? You get out what you put in. The aftermath of bagels, delicious dinner, or an unsatisfying fullness, comes from what goes on top.

Now the only thing left from New York to I need to recreate in Adelaide is Starbucks, for those times I really need wifi or the toilet.

Bottleshops of Adelaide all follow the convention of posting a sign out the front that advertises the day's price for a carton of Cooper's Pale Ale. The same way that petrol stations advise motorists of the going rate of unleaded petrol.

Of course, you could just go to Dan Murphy's where they have the best price for everything, and extensive range. It just depends if there's a Dan Murphy's close to the BBQ you want to be driving to.

Names are very important. Especially for businesses. I noticed that New Zealand has chain of kitchen appliance stores called "Kitchen Things", and no one seems to be objecting. Which I think is great. It lends some weight to my business plan to one day register the business name "Tourist Shit" and sell franchise licenses and consistent branding to places that sell postcards, key-rings and t-shirts at popular cities across the planet.

East Avenue is an arterial (or perhaps sub-arterial) street that runs North to South on Adelaide's grid of streets.

East Avenue can be found in the region directly south of Adelaide's Western boundary. If you followed it's citybound trajectory without wavering at the junction of the rejuvenated tramway you'd eventually arrive just west of West Terrace.

If you ever want to visit East Avenue you'll need to head to the centre of the suburb of Clarence Park, which East Avenue splits down the middle.

On the plus side, I think it does meet the etymological requirements of an "avenue".