England #1: Getting there

I have been here nearly three entire weeks now. I am closing in on the longest period of time spent away from home and I figured it was time to talk about what is happening.

Wednesday 16^th of July 2014 at 6:40am I got on the plane to London. A day later I took the train to Ascot. Here I still am nearly three weeks later. Lying on a blue couch in a sand coloured bedroom with not many belongings and far more longings.

I miss everybody at home. I miss knowing that school is starting in a few weeks. I miss the odd comfort of knowing that when I wake up in the morning I will see the same people I have seen all my life. I miss my hometown though I never thought I would. Mostly I miss my bed. My big, warm, soft, cloudlike bed with my gigantic duvet.

The bed is a symbol of course. It is always the first thing people miss, I reckon. Whenever someone returns home after a holiday they always mention how great is was to sleep in their own bed. East or west, home is best. The bed is a symbol of the comfort we feel in the safety of our own home, the place we know the best. The place where we go to sleep every night feeling secure and well. This is why I miss it so much.

The hard and bitter truth is, that it is no bed of roses to move out like I have done it. It would be easier to have left for a year of studying abroad, I would have been put in the home of a host family, I would have been assigned a school and naturally found friends there. It would have been easier to travel as an au-pair, here I would also have been put in contact with people right from the beginning.

But I love it and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am making friends in my own way and so far I have met some amazing people here.

These next 3 ½ months will be great.