It’s the end of an era my friends (I mean, a year).
Yesterday I touched down in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, and armed with my still burgundy EU passport (going to miss this bad boy), I charged through the snazzy electronic border control to be reunited with my family.
Granted, the last time I said goodbye to them was three days prior as I finally got to show them the city I’ve been calling home for a little while, but coming home this time was different. I had handed in my classroom keys and my flat keys, and there was no going back. That is, until I visit again.
So many people have been asking me how I feel about coming home, and in all honesty I’m really not sure. This year has been tumultuous to say the least, with obstacles in my personal life and in general, so it feels somewhat relieving to come out the other side whole and unharmed. However, I’m really going to miss calling Bilbao home.
I will miss my morning cortados and the pintxos. I will miss the cheap wine. I will miss my friends living a walkable distance away from me, who are now travelling or scattered across the UK. I will miss my school, and the supportive teachers and the kids who have made each day entertaining and enlightening. Although I’m not sure if I want to teach after university, this has definitely given me a taster and I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it overall.
I’m not sure how to end this post, because that means this series (?) is well and truly over, but my presence on this blog is far from over yet. Let’s hope my summer is as exciting as my year abroad has been, but realistically I’m going to sleep for a while and think about yesterday’s glorious Sunday Roast. It was great.