I’ve made two previous posts about things here that I’ll find myself crying out for when I up sticks soon. But yet, there are a number of things I perhaps might not be too upset to leave behind me.
Alright, yes, I do bang on about it. But I promise, this is a post that maybe you won’t roll your eyes too deep into your skull at. Maybe.
In the time leading up to when I left Ireland, I’d learned a lot. Both about life, and about myself.
My friend was recently absolutely devastated when she realised a visit to me in Cardiff won’t result in getting a stamp on her passport. I have tried to console her by inviting her to come with me when I cross one of these off my list.
This is also a travel porn piece for me. Because I didn’t just get off a plane three days ago. . .
As you read this, I am sitting on a plane taxiing across the runway in Dublin Airport, headed to Cardiff to start my masters course.
You have been with me since the very beginning.
(Okay, actually, you’ve been there since I was 14. But still. A long time.)