Having felt homesick for quite a while, I was itching to get back to Inglaterra. I booked my flight way back in November, choosing to spend every single day off I had at home.


I was concious of the fact I was selectively missing the good bits, and forgetting the reasons why I wanted to leave the country in the first place. I couldn’t wait to understand the train times, pack flavour into my food, drive past green tumbling hills, and feel the sea breeze on my skin on the Isle of Wight.

Unfortunately my arrival in England consisted of 3 hours waiting for my luggage in London Stansted Airport, which resulted in a 2 hour drive home, only to miss the last boat and having to sleep in my Dad’s jeep until 3am. Needless to say I quickly remembered that although it did take my Spanish bank 3 weeks to send me a bank card, England did not always have one up on España. Seeing my friends and family was of course lovely, but also over and done with in about a week. Living on a farm makes even meeting for coffee (more than once) a little bit too much effort for some people, especially when each of us live 30 minutes apart. Living on an island whose boat companies charge almost £20 for you to get on and off, also meant seeing friends from university usually results in me burning my money, because it has become apparent that mainlanders see getting on a boat as beyond their capabilities. As my parents have sold our family home, spending Christmas packing up the past 10 years of my life was emotional but also refreshing. Reading old diary entries and letters from friends made me remember all the people I’ve grown apart from, and yet how I’m now kind of okay with that. I’ve always felt too guilty to let people go, but as I’ve grown less insecure in myself I’ve come to realise I have a lot to give and I’m not the worst person in the world to expect something little in return.

At home almost everything had remained the same, and I remembered why I ran away in the first place. I’ve grown to appreciate a lot about my home country that I took advantage of before, but oddly my visit home also made me appreciate all that I have going for me here in Madrid. Many of my friends express fear of the ‘real world’, and right now I’m not even sure what that is or where the concept came from. Madrid isn’t my favourite city, but living in zone 1 of a country’s capital is incredible. This sounds cringe, but stepping out of my door to the crazy financial district makes me feel alive. All the choices I make are my own, and I’m in (almost) complete control of what I get to do next, and that’s crazy exciting! Even as I graduated from University I had no idea that this is where I would be, but I’m embracing all the obstacles that this race course has to throw at me. I’m reaping the benefits of all the hard work I did whilst at uni (both academic and practical), and it’s pretty damn nice. I’m still not sure where I want to be in five years time (nevermind even next year!), but every day I have ideas for my future career, and as I slowly but surely seem to be gathering my thoughts into a more focused channel.

Now I’m back in Madrid, I’m feeling muy feliz and have decided not to return to the UK until August. I’m going to spend Easter travelling around Spain and Portugal, and I’m thinking of spending Summer Interraling through Eastern Europe. I’ve had a few people express shock at the fact I won’t be coming home for so long, but why should I go home to the the 10 different types of rain, when people can see me here underneath the glorious Madrid sunshine? 8)

Estoy optimista!

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