This time next week I’ll be sat in Gatwick airport waiting (im)patiently for my plane to Manchester.
Bordeaux, as much as I love you, it’s time for me to leave now. I’m ready to go home. Unless all my friends, my family and Martin suddenly decide that they would like to move here instead, but knowing the likelihood of this scenario, I think it would be for the best if I just left.
Sorry. We’ll stay friends and stay in touch.
Now I’ve finished teaching, finished my final essay of this year and all my friends here have up and left (wisely I now realise), I am not really doing anything productive. And I could be equally unproductive at home. Who knows, I might even find some work experience or a job as well…
I wouldn’t even mind just spending the summer trying to distract myself from the ever looming presence of final year. New York is on the cards.
Yes, my year abroad has been so much better than I could have ever possibly imagined, but I would like it finish now please. If that’s okay.