After I’d waved Kevin off at the bus station as he returned to beautiful Oviedo, it was straight back to the daily grind for me, as the day after I headed back to work. In order to keep myself occupied outside of the office, a bunch of us decided to start a new tradition: Taco Wednesdays! Now I know there’s no alliteration, but bear with me, as we decided on this particular day because the Mexican restaurant directly under my friend’s flat does a 1€ deal on tacos on Wednesday evenings –buzzing.
As the temperature has been climbing and summer seems to be drawing closer, we first met up for some drinks and a catch up on my friends’ lovely terrace. Once we’d drank our fair share of sangría, we descended to the restaurant and enjoyed a lovely tipsy evening of tacos, managing to bag this selfie before things got a little messy downstairs!
Later that week, we all regrouped for a wander around the city, a stroll which took us to an infamous bar I’d been meaning to check out for quite a while. Bar El Tigre is well known for the sheer size of the tapas that they gift you with every drink, so we headed in and grabbed a caña (small beer) and watched in awe as they served up three plates full of snacks!
Last Friday also saw another event happening in the centre of the city, with La Noche de los Libros (Night of Books) in full swing as the sun set. After we’d watched a video mapping presentation in the Puerta del Sol, we headed to another legendary drinking spot, Sala Equis.
“The X Room” used to be –as the name hints at– a porn cinema, but has now been transformed into a multi-use cultural space which can act as both a cool drinking spot as well as a cinema for retro movies. We all grabbed a beer, perched ourselves on the random deckchairs, and tried to make out the plot of an old silent movie which was being projected onto the screen above the bar.
That same weekend was a special one for my friend Loredana, as she’d signed up to run the Madrid Marathon on the Sunday – a week ago today, in fact. To show our support, me and Heidi opted not to join in with any physical activity, but rather to go down to the route and cheer her on with embarrassing custom t-shirts!
As Loredana had (for some reason unknown to man) chosen “croquetas” (croquettes) as the text on her bib, me and Heidi knew that we simply had to incorporate the delicious Spanish snack into our design. We secretly made a trip to Primark the day before, and then spent a good couple of hours applying our fabulous design, ready to meet up along the route the next day.
Once we’d cheered Loredana on as she passed the spot where we were waiting, we had a bite of lunch before heading to the finish line to (what could have been quite literally) catch Lore as she finished the gruelling 42km (26mi) course. As we watched on in earnest, however, one of the runners got down on one knee and proposed to his girlfriend right as they both finished the marathon! This proved quite the distraction, and we almost missed Loredana wandering by, but I spotted her just in time and we yelled for her to come over.
After checking that she was alright –I was shocked at how normal and not dead she looked– we left Lore to pick up her medal and an energy drink before we were finally reunited. After grabbing a stranger to take a photo of the three of us, we headed in to the city to eat some lunch –croquettes, naturally– before heading back to Lore and Heidi’s flat for a relaxing evening.
Congratulations to Loredana on such a wild achievement!
All this madness brings me pretty much up to date to this weekend, however I still had one surprise in store on Friday night! We’d arranged to meet up at their flat again, which was for what I assumed would be some quiet drinks before the two of them and Megan headed down to Málaga for the week. I was completely caught off guard then when they went downstairs to “get more sangría” and then returned with a gorgeous birthday cake!
I was really touched by the lovely gesture, but we didn’t waste any time in getting stuck in, as the cake is actually one of Megan’s speciality ice cream cakes! Having worked at Ben & Jerry’s flagship store back at home in Vermont in the United States, she is an expert in these decadent treats, and her cookie dough, chocolate brownie and vanilla masterpiece did not disappoint!
As I mentioned, that evening Heidi and Loredana headed down to Málaga for a long weekend of sandy beaches and sunshine, with Megan set to join them tomorrow morning. I really wish I was there with them all, especially after such a lovely surprise, but I’ve to relax and prepare myself for a crazy hectic week ahead…
Tomorrow is indeed my birthday and I’ll be turning the ripe old age of 23 – don’t talk to me about how the years are flying by – but there’s no rest for the wicked, so I’ll be at the office for most of the day! I won’t even get a break in the evening to head out for a celebratory drink, as I’ve to pick up some last minute goodies and head home to pack and get an early night in to catch a flight early Tuesday morning!
I don’t remember if I’ve mentioned it here on my blog before – probably not as I am notorious for forgetting to mention important information – but I’m headed back to England for a short week! It’s going to be six hectic days of intense travelling and catching up, with a day in Burnley, a day in Liverpool, two days in Leeds and then two days in London all lined up. With such a schedule I’ll no doubt be way too busy to post any updates here, but fear not as I’ll be back next week to share all the shenanigans which will have undoubtably occurred!
I guess that I’ll be back with you all when I’m another year older…
After I was up in the north (again) with Kevin just a couple of weeks ago, a mere four days later he found himself on a coach down to the capital, where we had a busy weekend of chilling in the city planned! Once he’d met me at the Erretres office on the Friday, we had a quick tour of the studio and then headed into the rather grey looking city centre.
Once we’d had some tacos at my favourite Mexican spot in the city, we headed through the centre and past the palace and cathedral, where we stopped for a while to sit down and take in the ambience of the evening. After listening to the harp and watching the sun slowly retreat by the royal palace, I whisked Kevin to watch the sun set from the Temple of Debod.
It was whilst wandering back from the temple that the rain suddenly began its attack, and we had to take refuge in a bus stop before braving he downpour and seeking shelter in a bar. A couple of beers later, we admitted that we were tired, and so headed back home for a good night of sleep before a busy Saturday!
Our explorations the next day began with a walk down the river near my flat, before hearing back to the centre and the cathedral, where we headed inside and gawked at the architecture for a good while. Once we were back outside in the rather sunnier weather, we headed to the commercial centre to make the most of the Saturday shopping hours.
Once we’d stocked up on fancy chocolate from Cacao Sampaka and toiletries from Lush, we headed to a spot Kevin had requested after a good experience during a previous visit: El Mercado de San Ildefonso. At this street food bazaar we grabbed some Guinness and a delicious plate of Korean fried chicken, before heading down into the writer’s district, where I knew Kevin would be in his element as a student of all things literary.
A Korean lunch with an Irish beer: a culture clash we were happy to let happen.
That evening, and after returning home through the indoor tropical gardens in Atocha train station, we headed into the La Latina area of the city for a drink. After putting the world to rights over a cheeky gin and tonic, we headed back home to prepare for a busy Sunday – it may be a day of rest, but I always say that there is no rest for the wicked!
Sunday kicked off in traditional Madrid fashion: with an amble up the huge street market of El Rastro. Once Kevin had picked up some goodies and we’d cleared the hoards of people, we had some lunch in Plaza Mayor before hopping on the metro for a museum which I’d discovered for the first time only when my parents visited a mere few weeks ago.
Our strategically timed visit was to ensure that we got into the Museo Cerralbo for free, and we did – just about! Arriving less than an hour before close, we still managed to tour the entire building, and the place managed to leave Kevin speechless more than once along the way.
Once we’d had a coffee for some energy, we headed into the district of Malasaña, where there was an event called Pinta Malasaña (literally “paint Malsaña”) and the name says it all. Dozens of artists had taken the streets, each one creating unique pieces on the very walls and shutters of the neighbourhood.
To soak in the buzz, we grabbed some beers and wandered the streets, stopping to watch the artists at work or sit and chat about whatever was on our minds. Once we’d finished our drinks and traversed the neighbourhood, we headed back to my flat for a rest, and I booked a table at one of my favourite places to eat for later in the evening.
After freshening, we headed to the city centre to Heidi and Loredana’s flat, where we were joined also by Kevin and Napo. After all the introductions and all that nonsense, we headed back to the streets and to Goiko Grill for some of the best burgers in the city.
There we had amazing food and even better conversation, and I felt really lucky to be surrounded by a group of such lovely people – it somehow felt like an early birthday treat!
All too soon we were back in my flat, getting ready to head out for Kevin’s final day in the city. As short as the Monday may have been, I had a pretty packed schedule lined up, and so soon I had marched Kevin into the city and up to the roof terrace of Círculo de Bellas Artes. This is my favourite spot for catching 360° over the sprawling city, and we made sure to make the most of the 4€ entry fee by taking in the sun and the views and having yet another of our lengthy chats.
Once we were back at street level we headed into Retiro park, having a quick wander around some of the most pretty sights, before grabbing some lunch and heading to one of my favourite shopping spots in Madrid: Dealz.
Now, I should preface this by telling you all that me and Kevin met whilst he was studying for a year in Leeds, so he’s no stranger to British culture. We were both equally excited to be visiting Dealz, seeing as it is basically Poundland, complete with the selection of British snacks and sweets which I so fondly miss from time to time. Napo had tagged along too, but as a stranger to life in England, he didn’t seem quite as thrilled as me and Kevin were to be there…
After this we made one quick last venture into Lavapiés, where we sat on a street terrace and had a round of vermut, all before we had to take Kevin up to the bus station to catch his coach back to Oviedo. Once he was on his way back up north, me and Napo headed into Chueca for a drink in the plaza, making the most of the sun which had finally broken through the weekend’s clouds!
As much as I enjoy my weekend retreats in the gorgeous lands of Asturias, I have to say it was an absolute pleasure to have Kevin down in the bustling capital for the long weekend. I can only hope that he had as good a time being dragged around Madrid as I did actually doing said dragging!
It goes without saying then that the two of us are already coordinating my next trip to the north, but for now I shall have to leave the post there, as I have plenty more to share but it’ll have to wait for the next update!
Ido apologise for the delays as of recent, but I am currently without WiFi in my flat due to some technical problem. Have no doubt however that I’m trying every crafty technique possible to keep you all updated – I have even had to publish this from my iPad at work. Sneaky!
As I mentioned in last week’s post, my weekend was spent once again up in the northern lands of Spain! As part of what is almost becoming a routine, I hopped on a train from Madrid Chamartin station, popped some Netflix on on my iPad, and four hours later I was in a taxi whizzing through Oviedo on my way to Kevin’s flat.
Once the reunion hugs were over, it was straight into the kitchen to boil some water for a cup of tea, and I revealed that I’d brought some homemade Victoria Sponge cake along with me for the occasion. We promptly sat down with our tea and cake and proceeded on one of our extended catch up and deep discussion sessions, and after agreeing not to stay up past midnight, we eventually headed to bed at about 3am. Oops.
The reason we were so keen to get a good night’s kip was because Kevin had a plan for the Saturday which lay ahead, but as we headed to sleep I still really had no idea what said plan actually was.
This was all revealed to me the next day, as we headed into the centre of Oviedo for some quick breakfast, and to catch a bus to a little coastal town called Cudillero. Kevin promised me that it was worth the journey, but even as we arrived, the winding tight streets didn’t give much away as to what was in store.
You can imagine my shock then when, after wandering plenty of streets without even a hint of coastline, we suddenly found ourselves in a picturesque little cove. Little rickety houses clung to the sides of the cove, surrounding a central plaza which led down to the docks and the sea below.
Before speeding off to take in the ambience of the sea – something I miss as I live as far inland as – we decided to begin by climbing up the side of the cove to see what kind of views it would offer. We ascended up a labyrinthine web of tiny and often perilous stairwells which weave between the houses on all sides of the village, frequently wondering whether we’d inadvertently stepped into someone’s back garden as the paths crossed behind people’s houses.
Once we’d stopped for some snacks at a spot overlooking the central village plaza, we headed back to the docks, being careful not to slip on the algae-covered steps on the way down. As we headed out towards the sea, we were sure to turn back and take in the views of the village over the water…
Once we’d headed a bit further out, we climbed down to near the waters edge and sat with our feet dangling over the water for a while, chatting and putting the world to rights. In between our chats about the future of language and ideas for pieces of writing that we wanted to do, I spotted that there were some crabs hiding amongst the rocks along the water’s edge, so I was then quite distracted looking at those for a while.
We only eventually moved on when we heard rumbling behind us, and turned in time to witness a sizeable amount of rocks become dislodged and tumble down the cliff behind us. Sensing that this was as good a sign as any to get back on our feet, we headed back into the village centre to grab some lunch at one of the local bars in the plaza.
Once we’d had some lunch and made friends with the owner of one of the dessert bars, we began our way back up another of the treacherous paths which snaked up the other side of the cove. As we ascended we had a destination in sight: a concrete viewing tower which stood atop the hill on the eastern side of the mouth of the cove.
Once we arrived at the structure however, it soon became obvious that we wouldn’t be climbing up it, as the metal steps were badly decayed. In an unexpected act of health and safety awareness on behalf of the Spanish, someone had had the sense to block the access with a plastic barrier: colour me both shocked and impressed.
We weren’t disappointed though, and we carried on further up the hill until we reached a cemetery. We had a snoop around but naturally I didn’t want to take any photos, and eventually we had to head back down to the village bus stop in order to catch the last bus back to Oviedo.
Once we arrived back at Kevin’s flat we decided to squeeze in a quick nap, as we’d been told to arrive in the city centre for the birthday celebrations of our friend Camila. We eventually made it late (naturally), but we were soon scoffing down an insanely delicious selection of Asturian dishes, including the classic cachopo (check out the last time I had a huge one here), all washed down with unlimited drinks.
It goes without saying then that with such an open bar things soon got a little out of hand, and we all ended up out in the city until the early hours of the morning, singing and dancing and generally having a great time. I haven’t had a night out like that since I left university, so it was really nice to let my hair down for the weekend – although naturally I did pay for it the day after!
As we’d arrived home so late we didn’t really have time to do much the next day, except wolf down some delicious orange chicken that Kevin made from scratch. Seemingly before I could even compliment him on his cooking, we were being whisked off to Oviedo train station and then I had to endure a rather unpleasant 4 hours on the train back to Madrid with quite the hangover. Not recommended.
As ever, I feel like I have flown through this blog post and the great quantity of information it contains, but hopefully you guys all managed to keep up. I have another busy week here in sunnyrainy (ugh) Madrid, but I have reason to look forward to the weekend: Kevin is coming down for a few days!
That’s right, I eventually managed to coax the Asturian out of beautiful Oviedo and down to the crazy (and expensive) capital, so I’ll be sure to take plenty of photos of all the shenanigans that we get up to and I’ll be back with an update at some point next week!
I shall translate the title of this blog post a little further in, but for now we’re back to the usual photo-filled programme this week, with an update of what I’ve been up to since my parents left back for England almost a month ago. Where did the time go?
Anyway, on with the show, where I shall begin with an update on what we’ve been up to in the office. I can’t take any responsibility for the work on this project as I wasn’t really involved, but we recently completed a rebranding of a Spanish TV show called Fama: ¡a bailar! or “Fame: let’s dance!”.
As a project with a damn quick turnaround, it’s all been launched quicker than we can prepare it for our website, but for now you can check it out as it was featured on Brandemía here, and we also posted a preview on the Erretres Instagram here. Props to Mario and Dani, who worked tirelessly on bringing it into existence in such a short space of time!
Outside of the office (literally) the sun has begun its slow return, and so I’ve been spending a little bit more time on the streets of the city instead of cooping myself up in the warmth of my bed. To get us both up and out of the city a bit, me and Napo have also recently begun a tradition of going to IKEA to make good and proper use of the free coffee and WiFi.
To get to IKEA I only have to walk a few minutes from my house to Madrid’s main station, Atocha, where I grab the Metro down to the south of the city. It’s a really pleasant walk it turns out, and it takes me past the insane architecture of the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, one of the city’s three huge art museums.
After one of these trips to IKEA, me and Napo decided to head back into the city centre, and it’s now that I shall have to explain the title of the blog post. Semana santa literally translates as “holy week”, being what we’d probably more commonly call Easter, and across Spain it’s a pretty big deal. Some of you may recall all the drama which unfolded the last time I was here for Easter, which I share in the aptly named Semana Santa blog post from 2016.
Celebrations usually involve either a tonne of noise and periods of spooky silence, which happen as huge processions pass through the streets. There’s people carrying statues of religious figures, mourners weeping over the death of Jesus, people in traditional semana santa attire (no, it’s nothing to do with the KKK), and even performances of saeta, a traditional type of music loaded with emotion.
Needless to say you can guess by now what it was that we stumbled upon: a huge procession making its way through the city. I took plenty of videos which I posted on my Instagram, but I think for now a photo of the start of said procession will suffice here. As I said, if you want to check out better photos, I took plenty back in 2016!
Needless to say that with all the hysteria around semana santa, I was afforded two days off work this week just gone. Rather than spending it in amongst the processions and religious ceremonies, I opted rather to head out of Madrid city altogether – hence the blog post’s name, which translates to “Not-So-Holy Week”.
As most of my friends were away visiting other places, I wound up doing an experiment to see how far out of the city I could get using my travel card – crazy fun, I know. Turns out I could have gone all the way to the beautiful city of Toledo, but I thought it’d be packed with Easter tourists, so I headed north instead and to a place called El Escorial.
Before setting off to El Escorial, I hadn’t done any research to see what was there, which is very unlike me indeed. I knew that there was some kind of royal residence or something there, and to be honest I was more excited to see some greenery speed by the train window than I was about the destination, so I wasn’t really expecting to do all that much.
Once I arrived I didn’t really find anything to write home about, it was a pretty village surrounded by some greenery. I noticed a lot of people seemed to be heading northwards and uphill however, and so I reluctantly followed them up the incline. I found a little house in a park which was quite cute, but it looked like paid entry so I decided to scoot around the back, which was when I noticed a spire poking out from the treetops in the distance.
I soon realised that the royal residence I had caught wind of was actually a full-blown palace, complete with sweeping views of the valley and expensive gardens to boot. I popped up my umbrella to protect me from the hailstones which had begun falling, and began with haste up the ever steepening hill.
Once at the top I was pretty tired, but decided to have a sniff around to see if there was anything interesting. The rest of my trip followed a similar pattern of almost turning back, but I kept pushing on and exploring as I was curious to see what I could see. This eventually lead me to fully encircle the palace, as I discovered an unsuspecting little entrance which actually allowed free access to the gardens and stunning views of the place.
This quiet day trip was turning into quite the solo adventure, as I definitely hadn’t expected to find myself wandering around the perimeter of such a huge edifice. Things got even crazier though when me and another family had a near brush with a group of three female peacocks, who flew up out of nowhere and proceeded to terrorise us as I tried to snap a photo. I have a video on my phone but I shan’t share it here due to the quantity of screaming and swearing which it contains…
I also learned the Spanish word for peacock, pavo real, which literally means “royal turkey”, which I thought was quite cute.
Eventually I retraced my steps back to civilisation, stopping for some food at a local bar, where I got chatting to the owner and one of the employees. I was treated to a slap-up meal of cheese stuffed peppers and a mini slice of free cheesecake, and we wound up putting the world to rights for an hour, all before I descended back to the train station and made my way back to Madrid.
As today is Easter Sunday however I shall have to wish everyone ¡Feliz Pascua! We celebrated at home, not with chocolate eggs (which I’m used to in England), but with a lovely dinner party hosted by my flatmate Mirian. A couple of friends came over and we indulged in wine, tapas,pinchos, and then a selection of Brazilian dishes which we ate until we had rice flowing out of our ears!
So now I am sat in my room considerably rounder than I was this morning, basking in the glow of the new coloured LED lighting that I treated myself to during yet another IKEA trip with Napo yesterday. With work at 9am tomorrow morning, I shall have to leave it there for tonight, but you can be sure I’ll be back soon as I have yet another trip to Oviedo booked for next weekend!
When I’m feeling a bit sad or maybe stressed out about something, I tend amongst other things to write, as it’s an activity which allows me process my thoughts and enjoy the catharsis of committing them to paper. I might write a little poem in my notebook, a rambling stream-of-conscience essay on my phone, or just a short bit of fictional prose. What I never seem to do though is publish or share such ramblings in any way, and so I’m here with a more reflective post than usual in which I hope to do just that.
You’ll all know by now that five months ago I permanently upped sticks and made the move from a life in the north of England to work and live the big city life in Spain’s capital, Madrid. People have commented on that it was a big decision to make, but in all honestly I never really thought too much of it, as I seem to be someone who gets worked up over the small things instead of any big decisions or changes.
I seem to be someone who gets worked up over the small things instead of any big decisions or changes.
As much as I loved my time in Leeds with all my friends, and despite years of happy memories living over the border in Burnley, I always knew that I wanted a change of scenery from Leeds, and that Burnley didn’t really have anything to offer a budding designer, so I always wanted to move away in some way. What I never really expected was to find myself enchanted by Madrid after my first visit back in 2015, but I returned home determined to at least bag a short stint of work experience there during my placement year at university. I managed to do just that when I was offered a six month internship with Erretres starting in February 2016, as most of you probably know.
So now we get to the juicy bit: what is it like to pack a bag and move abroad to start work?
I remember I was in Madrid and ready to leave for Barcelona when I got the news, which was just in time as I’d arrived with a bag full of portfolios ready to knock on some studio doors. After binning those and enjoying a rather more relaxed trip, I arrived home with the pressure of packing six months worth of my life into a 20kg suitcase in just over three days. What was I to take?
It wasn’t the first time I’d left home, having left Burnley for Leeds two years earlier, but this time I couldn’t just ask my mum to drive over with the frying pan and pyjama bottoms I’d forgotten.
So there I was, at the ripe old age of twenty, trying to decide between packing a towel or another pair of trainers. It was an exercise on trimming down, but a challenge I quite enjoyed, which may be partly why I am recently trying to lead a minimalist lifestyle (which I shall be talking about in another blog post soon no doubt). I remember wondering how on earth I was going to survive without my camera tripod, but being hefty it had to be left out, and then before I knew it I’d zipped it up and I was (kind of) ready to go.
I remember that I was still surprisingly calm, the packing had been relatively smooth, and the only thing on my mind was trying to squeeze in visits to see all my friends and family before I boarded my one way flight. Despite this feeling of relative peace, I didn’t get a wink of sleep the night before flying, but I still can’t say that I was upset or panicking even as I waved goodbye to my family at the airport. It was sad to be leaving them, but we’d already talked about them visiting and I was reeling in the joy of being offered a job at a company I admired, so the overriding feeling was definitely excitement: I was ready for the adventure.
I think that first night of being in Madrid was when the reality of the situation began to set in, once I’d found my way to the hostel I’d be staying in for a fortnight. I had a chat with the lady working on the reception for a good while, but soon I closed the door behind me and suddenly I was alone. It was once I was completely alone that I realised the gravity of the situation I had just flung myself into; but that isn’t to say that I panicked, I’d say it was more bewilderment that anything. As ever I had a list of what I had to do the next day, so I felt calm in knowing I had something to keep my mind occupied.
I couldn’t just ask my mum to drive over with the frying pan and pyjama bottoms I’d forgotten.
The panic really hit the day after that: my first day at work. From their website and online communication, I had assumed that Erretres would work in a mixture of Spanish and English, and Esther who was the first person to arrive and greet me spoke to me in English, so I had relaxed a little bit. In this case then you can imagine my shock when after a few minutes she said she was going to switch to Spanish as I’d have to get used to it, and suddenly as the office began to fill and as people began to greet me, I realised that I’d inadvertently thrown myself into a working environment where Spanish was pretty much the only language used.
The first thing on the agenda was (and still is) a planning meeting to organise the team, and it was during this that the panic set in – I understood barely anything. A team of 15 or so people talking over one and other and laughing at jokes I hadn’t understood was disconcerting to say the least, but I had in my hand an overview of the plans, so I decided I would do my best to try and figure out what was what as the day wore on.
Throughout the next few weeks I can’t really report that things got any easier, and I’d be lying if I said that some severe doubt had set in. I wondered if I’d over-faced myself, as starting one’s first professional job is a challenge enough without it also being your first time ever properly using a language that you’d stopped learning at college two years prior. Life outside the office brought with it as many trials and tribulations as it did within, as I didn’t understand how healthcare worked, what opening times were, how to order food, how to be polite, and how to be sure not to upset people. There was also the challenge of meeting new people and making new friends, something which always makes me anxious regardless of where I may find myself.
I can’t say exactly when or how it happened though, but at some point I found that I had inadvertently gotten into the groove of things. I had a small network of friends, which was enough for me as a rather introverted being, and having being exposed to Spanish pretty much 24/7 I was beginning to pick up the lingo. Things were going well until I was struck down by a string of illnesses, which brought with them the first moments of panic as I realised I didn’t have access to a GP, and wasn’t living with people who could take time to take care of me should I need it.
This began quite an anxious period of my six months in the city, as during a visit to the hospital due to chest pain they found that my blood pressure was high. This only served to make me more nervous about my health, and so even though work was a lot of fun and the weather was gorgeous, I often found myself too preoccupied to really kick back and enjoy myself.
It was a shame really then that the time around when I began to feel much more relaxed was also just as I was due to return to England. I was really upset to be leaving the people at Erretres behind, but equally I was glad to be heading back to the familiarity that England offered, not to mention the luxury of being looked after by my parents for a bit once more.
My final year of university then ensued, and as stressful and crazy as it was, it felt quite tame as I was once again reunited with all my friends and only a few hours away from home. Before I knew where I was I was being called on to the stage during my graduation, and I found myself in talks with Erretres to return towards the end of the year.
You all know by now how that story ends; as September came around I accepted a full time job at the company and the cycle of preparations repeated itself, although this time it felt slightly different. A certain carefree attitude can be adopted when one knows that one is to return after a certain period, but this time I knew that I was leaving for an indefinite period of time, and that felt rather more scary. Once again though I had already booked a badly timed holiday just before I was due to move, this time to Lisbon with my sister, so that served to take my mind off things for a bit.
Once I’d used my experience living there for six months to better guide my packing this time, I found myself zipping up my trusty battered suitcase once more and lying in my bed eyes wide open for the entire night. This time I was much more worried in certain ways, as it felt like a much more impactful and permanent decision, but also less worried, as the fear of the unknown was greatly quelled by the knowledge that I’d be returning to an office full of people I knew.
So let’s talk about the here and now.
Right now I’m approaching the six month mark since I moved out here to work, which is the same amount of time that I spent here back in 2016, but things this time do feel quite different. The culture shock (language, working hours, food) definitely didn’t hit me so hard this time around, and as I said, moving back to an office full of people I already knew felt like a return to normality more than it did a drastic change of scenery.
Also this time I think there’s a sense of freedom, almost a sense that I have nothing to loose. Instead of a six month intern contract, I have an indefinite one. As I now know the city, I have been able to find more permanent places to stay instead of moving around every month or so. I know that my parents would take me back in should I ever need to return home, and so I don’t feel so boxed in by restrictions.
I think there’s a sense of freedom, almost a sense that I have nothing to loose.
With the freedom to take holidays and return to the UK, as well as knowing that I can leave whenever I want, I did wonder if I would become more susceptible to do just that – run back to the UK when difficult problems arose. It seems to have actually had the opposite affect however, as with the calmness that knowledge brings I feel much more ready to tackle such problems as they arise, rather than panicking that they might spiral into a much bigger issue.
I do miss England in many ways, especially friends and family, but with FaceTime and Messenger just a few taps away I never feel too out of the loop. Sometimes I feel like I could kill for mum’s slap-up Sunday lunch complete with lashings of gravy, but I can wait to return home for one of those – a few rounds of tapas works nicely to fill that gap for now.
And so, as much as I worry that I may have focussed somewhat on the negatives of my stint here two years ago, it can’t have been so bad, as I did put all my energy into making sure I came back. I have no regrets about either of the decisions, as my first time here served to teach me a lot about truly independent living, and having moved back I am having the time of my life.
If anybody by any chance is considering such a move for work, then I’d say just go for it. For me the joys always outweighed the trials and tribulations, even if I didn’t see it as such in the moment, and the whole experience has served to help me grow in many ways. It might not be the conventional way to start advancing one’s career, but I’m having loads of fun while still learning so much every day, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
PS:I lied when I said I have no regrets – I regret not packing a lifetime’s supply of pork pies in my bag before I left. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
