A little over 5 years
ago, I left NZ to begin my adventure. I was a wide eyed girl who was
not really sure what to expect, how I was going to feel and if I
could really do this thing. I spent two months traveling before I
settled in London and had the time of my life. Then I crashed down to reality. I remember crying myself to sleep on my first night in London. Who was I kidding that I could do this?
Now I am a seasoned
Londoner. I survived the dreaded first six months, and have the
scars to prove it. I survived being very very ill, all by myself.
Don't get me wrong, I had the support of my family and friends from
afar, but here in London, at the time I felt very much alone. A
friend recently told me that she thought that I was the toughest
person that she knew, as after nearly a year here, she was finding it
really tough, and that she could not believe that I had survived for
five! But here is the thing. I had no idea how tough I was until I
needed to be.
Please don't get me
wrong, I love London. I love it a lot. I would not still be here if
I didn't. This city gets under your skin and all of a sudden when
you are knee deep in the most challenging six months of your life,
you see the Albert Bridge lit up at night and pinch yourself, you are
in London. All the dreaming about moving to this world class city
has come true.
Sure you miss your
family and friends. I have missed all of my friends pregnant. And
that guts me. I have missed seeing all of their beautiful babies as
babies and I miss that. But it is a blast meeting them now, a summer
ago, I spent time with Keenan who became my wee shadow. I love
sending them post cards and feeling like I am close to them on the
other side of the world. I have been away for over half of Sam's (my
nephews) life now. And I am so very sad about that. It breaks my
heart that he can no longer remember when I lived in NZ. I remember
crying in the airport and hugging him, and him saying that I had put
wet on his face. He was so little. Now he is running triathlons and
can no longer fit on my knee.
But here is the thing,
I have dreamed of this all of my life. I may not have known what it
would have cost me, but I have dreamed of it. Nothing compares to
the feeling of seeing scenery or seeing a monument that you have
studied, and to be standing there with it in arms reach. I cried
tears of joy and relief at seeing the Sistene Chapel. I still get
goose bumps when I see the Albert Bridge all lit up. I dread taking
a trip to Heathrow as the ol' Heathrow ass injection gets me
everytime. But I love this city and I love that it has taught me how
strong and independent I am. I miss driving but then I get to love
it when I drive a van to move a friend from city to city. I was
laughing at myself today as I went head out and grabbed a scarf. I
am indoctrinated English, in that I believe that even on a sunny day,
you need a scarf. I am not quite so English that I take an umbrella
everywhere, yet. But I am obsessed with the weather and consult the
iphone app before heading out to outdoor events, what can I say, its
an affliction.
So here is where it
stands, I have a slightly English accent, and I speak a hell of a lot
slower than I used too. I have an ever diminishing London family,
and I now have friends all over the world, but I am kiwi to the core.
I may not be nearby, but I skype and message with my friends often.
Facebook is a great invention. I miss my homeland and its likely to
be the rubbish weather that drives me, like the rain, from England
back to the South Pacific, but it won't be for a few years yet. I
love my homeland and I will be back one day soon, but for now,
cheerio from the land of horrid weather.
