After the success we had last year having Thanksgiving in London, we did the same this year. It was wonderful, just like before. One of my friends from Logroño came, we ate lots, played games, and – of course – played football in the park. I love Thanksgiving.
I’m getting quite annoyed with myself when it comes to this blog. It brings me such happiness, but I’m having such a hard time keeping it up.
To be honest, I’m having a bit of a hard time overall right now, which I think is making it a challenge to get anything extracurricular done. I was trying to wait until I felt a bit more positive before coming back, but that just feels dishonest and not a real reflection of my life right now. So, hi internet. I’m (trying!) to be back. I’m a bit down right now but I have a lot to update you on, and such a huge backlog of travel I barely know where to start.
As I said earlier, I’m living in London now, and quite honestly I’m finding it hard to adjust to life in England. I miss Spain a million times more than I thought I would. I feel my Spanish rapidly slipping away–I’ve signed up for two Spanish courses here, one was far too easy and one was canceled just last week. Still looking for the right fit/any fit.
Life is hard – we’re living in the midst of grief and also adjusting to living together (or even in the same country) for the first time, I’ve unexpectedly moved countries, started a job in a new field, and everything just feels hard and sad and a bit hopeless right now.
I’m also struggling because instead of traveling, or planning on traveling, I’m having to put down roots. I have a job in a field I love, that could lead to me working abroad in international development. That is a huge goal. But it was an eventual one. After I had traveled and learned a few languages and experienced so much more of the world. I also never planned on ending up in London, once I did settle down. Because I’ve always thought it was a hard place to live, and I don’t think I’m wrong! All my friends who live here have plans to move in the next few years. London is where the jobs are, but not where the housing is, or any real room for growth. It’s overcrowded, overpriced, and and usually raining–everyone just kind of struggles to get through, and that’s not really my ideal tone in a city.
I also know it’s one of the most exciting cities in the world with everything on offer, but my reality is I can afford to live in a suburb miles outside where we can barely find more than two or three places to go for dinner. The pub culture that was so fun when I was a student feels repetitive and draining now. I think cities have personalities, and Boston and London remind me of each other. A bit tough, a kind of “grin and bear it” attitude. LA felt like everyone had a dream and a goal and so much hope and enthusiasm. Spain was like that to an extent, and I was also living out such a dream that nothing could really get me down. Logrono was tiny but I was in the very center of everything. London is huge and I am on the outside. I spend three hours a day commuting to/from work, and it’s dark all the hours of the day I’m not in the office.
I know I need a major attitude change. I’m sitting here complaining when what I need to be doing is finding a way to like it here, to see it as the opportunity it is instead of feeling like I’m stuck in a situation I don’t want to be in. But the thing about roots is they go deep. It was so, so hard to leave LA, and I wasn’t even in a job I loved. I’m so scared if I settle in here, in the right career, I’ll never leave, and I’ll wake up in a decade wondering how I let my life pass by without doing the things I have so desperately dreamed of doing. Then I wonder what I’m doing here, if I’m planning on leaving, because all I’m doing is investing time into a job and a life that I’m not planning on making permanent. I feel confused and homesick for Spain, or LA, or back to a time when I had an idea of what my future would be and felt like I was actively working towards accomplishing my goals. Like I said, attitude adjustment needed!
Well hello there, it’s been a while, no?
After such a long absence I think it’s best to start with an update. I’ve moved to London. I’ve started a full time job working at an international NGO that deals with sexual and reproductive health in the developing world. And I got another kitten.
It hasn’t been an easy few months. Gareth’s mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer in early June and she passed away just a few weeks later. I moved to the UK on June 8th to help Gareth, and other than a quick trip back to Spain to get Brady, my time in Spain has ended.
While London feels familiar, and like the closest thing I’ll get to home while not living in America, I do miss Logrono like crazy, and often find myself imagining I’m back there, walking the familiar streets, easily speaking in Spanish, and eating iberico jamon.
That said, my move was made all the easier because I was in the happy position of finding a job unexpectedly easily, which meant I needed to get my Italian ID card quite urgently. I came home from my first interview with the realization that things could move quickly, whether for that job or another, and getting my proof of right to work was quite urgent. I booked tickets and was on a flight to Pisa the next morning.
Because I bought the tickets so last minute, I had to go with the cheapest options available—which meant I would be spending 5 days around Pisa—which just happened to be close enough for a trip to Cinque Terre, a place I had been longing to visit for years. I planned for a night in Pisa, a day in Vernasca, getting my ID card, and then three days in Cinque Terre. It was a whirlwind trip and definitely one of my all time favorites.
On my way to the airport to fly out, I was told I’d gotten a second interview, and upon my return was hired for the job. Job hunting is one of the most stressful times in life, and I’m so happy to have mostly missed out on it this time around.
Right now I’m trying to focus on making London home. I’ve signed up for Spanish lessons, and found a Pilates class right by my work. I’m also starting to book some trips, which I’m very much looking forward to. I’m leaving for Norway in about a week, and think I’ll try to fit in Sweden, Estonia, and maybe Latvia before flying home to Boston for Christmas.
As I already posted about, I spent this Thanksgiving in London. I hadn’t been to London in quite a while, and was so excited to go back. I was a little nervous, because traditionally I spend Thanksgiving in America with Katie’s family, and I was worried I’d be homesick and surrounded by Brits on one of my very favorite holidays. That said, it was amazing!
The perfectness started after Gareth felt last minute guilt and agreed to pick me up from the airport. It’s so nice when someone is waiting for you at the gate, and even nicer when that isn’t followed by an hour long night bus. I got in late the first night so we pretty much grabbed some food and went right to bed. Can I say again HOW MUCH I love to, on occasion, eat non-Spanish food? It’s pretty great.
On Friday we had breakfast at one of the best coffee shops in Peckham, and then headed into Greenwich. I used to spend a lot of time there when we were all still in college, but I can’t remember having gone anytime recently at all. It was almost the same as I remembered, except the got rid of the Tex Mex place which breaks my nostalgic Mexican-loving heart.
We wandered around the park, which was gorgeous. I caught a few pokemon, because I’m cool. Then it got too cold and we headed to a pub nearby for beer and mulled wine (guess who ordered what). After that we went to the market where I got a really old map of Massachusetts, and for quite the deal because apparently Gareth is an expert negotiator. We got lunch and an 8 pound bottle of Rioja wine (on sale from 16 and still about quadruple what you’d pay in actual La Rioja), and then went back and tried to sneak in a nap before meeting up with all our friends.
It was a chill night, we had a few rounds, played some pool, and caught up about everything I’d missed in my nearly 10 month absence! Just to put this out there, I have the best friends.
Saturday was our stand-in Thanksgiving day, and what better way to start stretching your stomach than with a classic fry up! After joyfully eating something other than a pastry for breakfast, we headed to the big Sainsbury’s in the hopes they would have all the American stuff I needed for my recipes. Which they did, apart from corn syrup (which I need a disgusting amount of for my chocolate bourbon pecan pie). I substituted golden syrup which was actually a pretty big step down but it worked in a pinch.
I spent the morning cooking the pie and helping (aka watching and criticizing) Gareth prepare the turkey. I met up with some friends at the pub to watch England defeat Argentina, and by the time we got back the kitchen was set up and food was nearly ready. (Thanks, G!)
I’ve never properly hosted a Thanksgiving before. I’ve had one at my place, but never was in charge of making sure everyone had assigned foods and knew what they were making. That said, because my friends put so much effort in, it was all perfect. We had enough for everyone to have seconds, the food was delicious, and I even got like two British people to say what they’re thankful for, which was the biggest surprise of all.
After eating we went to the park and spent about an hour playing 6 on 6 football. It was excellent (and not only because my team won by a lot). Eventually we wandered home and attempted to drink even half the wine that was brought. We played cards and talked about all the new engagements and had a perfect end to the night.
The next morning we watched Gilmore Girls (I want another season!), went to another great coffee place for breakfast, and then I had to leave for the airport. The trip went so fast. It mostly just reminded me how much I love London, and my friends there, and how much I miss it. It’s so nice seeing Gareth all the time, and exploring so many new places, but it was a reminder about how much I love the old ones too. Right now I’m deciding what to do after New Years, because in Spain we have the week after off too. I found cheap flights to Budapest and back to Spain from Vienna. Really cheap. But I could also spend like 5 more days in London, which I know I would love too. It´s hard to make decisions!
I’m writing this on my break before my lass class, and then I rush home, pack, and head to Barcelona. I fly out at 6:00am tomorrow morning for Berlin, and from there will visit Amsterdam, Prague, and Wroclaw. I get back Sunday morning, 10 days from now, and my mom arrives for the holidays on that Wednesday. I am so excited for all that’s coming up. Just once more, in case I’ve not made it sufficiently clear… I love the holidays!
On February 1st, two important things happened. I turned 26 and I made a crazy, impromptu weekend trip to London. It was also the year anniversary of the Patriots winning the Super Bowl, but who’s counting?
I found out a few weeks before that the weekend of my birthday, which was on a Monday, was a long one. We had Friday and Monday off. I joked to G a few times that I should fly to London, but it was always a joke. That’s 24 hours of flying for one weekend. That’s crazy.
Flash to Thursday morning. I woke up from a really vivid dream that I was in London with my girlfriends, getting ready to go out. Nothing special happened, it just felt SO real. And I woke up devastated it wasn’t. Heartbroken I wasn’t about to meet all my friends at the pub, that Gareth was actually half a world away, already midway through his Thursday.
So. I decided to be crazy. I booked the tickets. (Which I was able to do last minute because of the thousands of airline miles I obsessively collect.)
Also I was late for work, because I needed to make the decision, call the airline, and pack in the time it usually takes for me to just roll out of bed and get in my car (my morning routine, ladies and gentlemen). I spent the whole day buzzing with excitement. We had a birthday party at work for me and the other assistant who stole my birthday minus a year. Then I got a bunch of alerts that the plane was delayed by hours. I tweeted AA and they responded that they needed to find a whole new plane. Then I read that the plane on its way to LA from London had filled with smoke and needed to make an emergency landing. That could have been me! That was the plane I was meant to take on its way back to the UK.
It was mostly fine, I hung out in the admirals club and drank free wine. We boarded five and a half hours late, something I normally wouldn’t care about but that was a decent percentage of my total time in London! The flight was empty. Probably everyone else got on an earlier flight or decided to go home and sleep in their beds instead of wait at the airport until 1am. But not I! And I was rewarded with an empty row and basically a flight attendant all to myself.
I landed in London and it was SO good to be back. It felt so surreal. 24 hours before I had no idea I’d be in London the next day. Seeing Gareth had been months away and actually being in London even longer. And suddenly, there I was! Fighting to get my oyster card working and sitting on the tube. It was a really special moment that reminded me not to take anything for granted, that the world is so much smaller than you think. And that Gareth really isn’t as far away as he sometimes feels. I took a picture to capture it. To me it’s a picture of the endless possibilities and the strange turns life takes. To everyone else it probably just looks like a train.
Then I was home and everything was amazing. My keys still worked (obviously), the drawer of clothes G convinced me to leave were still there, ready to be worn (though I did raid it on my way back, shhh), and Gareth had flowers, dinner, chocolate, red wine, Prosecco, and a toothbrush ready and waiting for me (read: he is perfect). And all my friends dropped everything and met me at the pub that night. It was amazing. I made my literal dream come true!
The weekend was a lovely mix of seeing friends and getting some great one on one time with G. Both nights all my friends came over, and during the days Gareth and I would stroll around London, eat delicious food, and play our favorite card game. It was really perfect. It was just a glowy haze of fun and feeling so full and happy.
The next morning the three people I hadn’t been able to see yet came over for breakfast (G makes the best breakfast sandwiches in probably the entire world), and then we went on another walk and then for my birthday dinner. Which was amazing. We keep trying to go to this Italian place by the train station, and it keeps being closed on the only night we can go. But instead we went to Olivelli on Lordship Lane, and it was perfect. The food was delicious and we had the most comically grumpy waiter. Also they had this dessert that was the best thing I’ve ever had. It wasn’t even chocolate, and it is RARE I enjoy a chocolate-free dessert. I don’t remember what it was called but the waiter said it was very traditional Sicilian. It looked like cottage cheese. And I want it 100 more times in my life.
My last morning we had breakfast and watched bad TV, which was what we did most mornings this summer. Then he took me to the airport and even though it was sad, because it always is, this time it felt different. This time I knew that he really was just a plane ride away. That we could plan to see each other in May but we could change our minds and be with each other 24 hours later.
It was the perfect weekend. It didn’t feel too rushed, it didn’t feel like a clock was ticking down. It felt stolen, or like the most perfect birthday gift. I’m so incredibly happy I had a vivid dream and a crazy, impulsive reaction to it. I hope I have them more often.
(Feature photo source)
Gareth and I started dating officially on December 18th, 2014. That was the day I arrived back in London, having left just 6 weeks earlier very confused about these strange new feelings I suddenly had for one of my best friends.
London, before Cornwall
Though confused is a bit of an exaggeration, because what I really felt was pretty sure we’d make it work despite the crazy distance, so mostly I just felt happy and impatient for it to be real.
I spent my first Christmas ever away from my family, instead with his in Cornwall. Gareth made all my favourite things and his family were so welcoming and lovely, even after being told his “friend” would be staying and instead had an incredibly loved up new couple on their hands.
For NYE we rented a house his family have been renting since he was born that is on its own little island, and all our friends came down and we had the best time. It was a dream.
