It has been a crisp, cold January here in Madrid and already 2017 for me has already been filled with heartbreak, passion and regretfully many Netflix binges to escape the reality of exams.
This city feels different already, like a shell of it’s former self, a self of just a mere two weeks ago. Now I feel somewhat alone, it’s just me and my foster cat living in our little flat in the middle of the bustling city; many of my friends have returned to their home cities dotted around Europe; my boyfriend now is undoubtedly an ‘ex’ and I have been shutting myself in from the cold with a good old cup of tea in my hand and revision papers scattered everywhere. Nonetheless, I believe that this is nothing that a good trip can’t fix, and I plan to do just that on Tuesday.
Christmas in England was just lovely. It had been four months since I stepped on my home country’s land and I have to say despite how much of a home bird I thought I was, I didn’t really miss England last year. In fact, I felt disenchanted, broken-hearted and downright embarrassed about my country at sometimes.
That was until I actually went back home, now it was only for two weeks, but I feel different about my country already. It was just lovely to be back and see the Christmas lights shining brightly on the houses, to see the cold air coating the garden in a splendid blanket of frost and to be able to hug and ride my lovely dogs and horses. England can be beautiful.
The weirdest thing is that when I went back I felt so different, yet home was almost the same and that is something that once frustrated me but now it is wholly comforting.
I hope for this year to be a happy one once again, I mean the luck of the little yellow king I found in my Roscon de Reyes must be true, right?!