Tomorrow morning I leave WPC.
It’s weird to think about. At no later than 10am tomorrow morning the place that has been home for the past few months will shut me out so that a flurry of workmen can begin to prepare the building for next semester’s students. I’ll have one last look around the flat that holds so many amazing memories, hand in my keys, and then be turfed out with my brand new suitcase (last minute packing disasters) and black backpack. Thankfully, my first stop on my Euroventure is with family a few hours train ride away, so I don’t need to worry about rushing to an international flight or anything like that.
I’m going to be honest, I have mixed feelings about what’s ahead of me.
I don’t want to leave Edinburgh. This city has become home in so many ways. I’m still not used to the castle (I can see it from my soon to be old room for goodness sake), or the fact it’s brimming with history (my local pub was getting people drunk before the Europeans even started squabbling over the Americas and Australia), but it feels like home. And even though I’ll be back in just a few weeks, I’m worried that it will feel different. That I’ll just be another tourist in the city I’ve come to consider home.
At the same time, I want to travel. I can’t wait to head over to Germany and see old friends, then down to Italy to explore the beautiful country I’ve heard so much about from my mum. I’ve organised a Topdeck tour for my last week before I come back to the UK to meet A, visiting Venice, Munich, Prague, Berlin, and Amsterdam. I’m honestly so excited for a well deserved holiday after this semester! I’m even more excited to show A around the UK!
Yet despite all the excitement and all the reluctance to leave Edinburgh, part of me just wants to hop on a plane back to Australia. I don’t know if I’m ready for my adventure to be over, but I’m ready to be back. I’m ready to not have to convert everything from pounds to dollars in my head. I’m ready to go to Safeway or Coles or Foodland or even IGA and buy some Australian cadbury chocolate, non-expensive steak, Arnotts shapes (Arnotts everything), Australian Special K and all the foods I didn’t realise how much I would miss until I couldn’t buy them. I’m ready to be back in a country where I can say “maccas”, “servo”, “arvo” and “mate” without it being a novelty. I’m ready to not have to wait up until midnight just to call my mum and dad. I’m ready to be able to see A rather than just talk over skype or facebook. I’m ready to have someone else cook me dinner some nights. I’m ready to fight over the covers with A, to stay up stupidly late for a work night watching Game of Thrones or Grand Designs, to have our inside jokes in the same room rather than across oceans. I’m ready to play with the dogs, to let Holly onto the couch. I’m ready to be ‘people home’.
So I don’t know how I feel tonight. All I know is that between now and the 7th of August when I get back to Australia, I’m going on an adventure. An adventure that will see me grow even more as a person, that will be filled with lots of photos and happy memories, a few tears and panics and anxiety, a lot of long overdue reunions, and an increasingly heavy suitcase.