I was in my kitchen the other day and as I was drinking a cup of tea (green tea and pomegranate) and I suddenly realised that I haven’t had my italian espresso for a long time now.

Stupid little things like these make you homesick every time your mind starts wandering around memories. Uhm… memories full of special perfumes, unequivocably tastes, priceless views and landscapes and warm smiles. It is very interesting the fact that when we moved in, we were exited to start a new life after all those sacrifices; university, several degrees, exams, and positive auto convincing that everything would be ok. Life needs water to flow, it needs cleaning away the dust, we needed taking the opportunity for a better future. Now, apart all this objective justifications you will need to pack up all your things and in doing this, select things and throw some objects which seem irrelevant at the rushing moving in process, but later on regret doing it. After some days it comes the hardest part of all, saying goodbye to everyone you know in particular the ones you love.It is one of the most heartbreaking moments in life especially if you are attached to your family or friends and in those moments you are sure that once you are far away from them, internet will be your best friend.
After doing check-in in the airport you think: “What the hell am I doing, is this the right thing, is it worth it?” But then you turn around and see him trying to speak with his eyes saying that everything will be ok. Once you arrive to new country it feels like you began a new life because everything is new to you , new roads, new shops, new post offices, new job applications, new supermarket, new pasta brands, different fruits and vegetables and sometimes even the sky and the rain doesn’t look the same.

Everything is new to you, apart from the repeated question ,every single time you meet someone during the course of the day, which goes: “Where is this accent from?” which sometimes I find really exiting to answer because I can speak about something which belong to me and others very annoying and egoistically creating a border between me and the rest of the world. I am not embarrassed to say, that sometimes when I arrived home really sad, the first thing I did was open my old photo album to naively try to re-enter inside my own world, where I feel accepted because I belong to. .. Anyway, apart from all the sentimentalism, moving in another country was one of the best thing we have ever done for ourselves
because everyone has the right to dream and look for the best. At the end of the day, we have new friends, new neighbours, new jobs, my husband has a little garden where he hopes to plant some veggies, and me, well I have a chance to start from the beginning, refresh my mind and even try a whole variety of teas (which I am really enjoying). Even though, nothing beats waking up in the morning and recognising the smell of my grandma’s Sunday roast
or my mum baking the prettiest and yummiest apple and cinnamon cake.
Carpe Diem