After nearly 10 months of eating scones, Yorkshire puddings, and everything else that the British cuisine has to offer, it felt just right to mark the ending of our journey by going out for a meal at the ever-so British pub called Wetherspoons. Besides the almost funny, but definitely ironic fact that it was curry night (I wonder if Trump ever gets jealous over Britain's special relationship with India?), there was even more laughter involved in our reminiscing about the months that have flown by at what feels like the speed of light.
While we sat on the balcony that was all ours that night, making us feel so special and almost a little royal with all the paintings hanging on the walls around us, we nearly forgot that this was likely to be the very last time we would see each other. There was a slight comfort in knowing that EF's Farewell Days were coming closer, knowing that this gives us the chance to express our final adieus, but because no goodbye is ever perfect, we knew that not everyone was going to attend the last get-together, and we slowly had to accept the inevitable.
Especially over the past months, I have been thinking about what it was that made me fall in love with Britain. What is it about British culture and its charm that I like so much; despite all the flaws that you would, of course, find anywhere? Perhaps it was the sense of humour (I still haven't found a better way to truly integrate myself and understand British teenagers than by watching shows like The Inbetweeners), the balance between politeness and straightforward and brutal honesty when needed, or the simple pleasure of walking down the streets of places like Stamford, Ely and Cambridge, making yourself believe you've gone back in time when passing old, brickstone houses and charity shops.
When Lucy, Anna, Tobias and I went to Cambridge for one last time a few weeks ago, I realized how much I would miss Cambridge's balance between city flair with its markets and shopping centres, and the historical and vintage touch of the universities and hidden re-made bistros and cafés. We took our last tea together, accompanied by the obligatory and classic scones with jam and cotted cream, and talked about all our expectations about Britain that were proven wrong. We joked about how we extended our British vocabulary mostly because of all the additional swear words and insults we've learned over the past months (Shakespeare must be so proud of the Brit's literary creativity) and of course, we spoke romantically about how much we've enjoyed everything that British culture and our exchange year had to offer. Every experience, no matter if good or bad, made our stay worthwile, and I wouldn't regret a single second of it.
Now we've only got a couple of weeks left, and we all have to force ourselves out of our seemingly utopian little world to start wondering what the next adventure would be. I, personally, have been thinking a lot about the future of this blog, whether I should keep it up or write a final blog post to fully and finally mark the ending of my British adventure. Don't get me wrong, I've really enjoyed to share my thoughts here, and the feedback I've received has been absolutely and unexpectedly amazing. I'm grateful for every single comment and cheeky little DM on Instagram. This blog hasn't just helped me develop my writing style and tone of voice, but also encouraged me to continue to do what I enjoy the most: to tell stories (with the occasional philosophical post about some bs advice where I act as if I know what I'm doing).
On that note, I just want to thank everyone for their support, their encouragements and inspiration. Thanks for reading my sometimes emotionally loaded blog posts that should've really made you consider to put me into a mental hospital rather than giving me the nicest feedback. I appreciate your decision to do the latter.
Here's to the ending of another chapter, and hopefully the beginning of a new one.