03/06/18
"Right. So the day has come. I’m on my connecting flight from Stockholm to Heathrow and I’m tired, too hot, battling the end of the hangover and shaky after too much coffee. I’ve been daydreaming and thinking deep thoughts about people, life, me and what I’ve learnt about those three things (if anything) since living abroad. This year has taught me a lot and given me a new perspective, though I’m sure I still have a lot to learn in the future and I’ll look back at me now and think how little I knew. It’s a bit like learning Russian: you start knowing nothing, think you learn something then learn a bit more and look back at the something you first learned as if it were nothing."
This entry feels like the most logical one to publish first even though it is chrono-illogical because it inspired me to start this blog and it captures the emotional end of my year abroad. Looking back brings this experience to the front of my memory, whilst simultaneously exposing it for what it is: a dim and distant dream that was too good to have happened. Picture me looking longingly out of an oval window, feeling everything from happy reminiscence to futile petulance (I had a strong desire to stomp my feet at the departure gate in a childish protest against walking away from the time of my life, but found myself on a London bound plane nonetheless). So there I was, imagining my life was ending like a sad film, camera panning over the clouds that were tucking the city up for bed. I like to think that Saint Petersburg is hibernating, waiting for my return.
