Time for a bit of a nostalgic quicky and rose-tinted post. I am back in town, in my beloved Cambridge. It’s been three and a half years since I left the imposing historic sandstone buildings behind me, after one year of calling them my home. The baristas might not know me by name anymore, many of my friends have moved on and the facades of my favourite shops have changed, but the city never ceases to give me this giddy feeling of pure happiness.
There’s a glow surrounding the city and it’s the little things that give it its final sparkle. Of course there are the historic Harry Potter charm and the grand architecture, but there are also the hundreds of bikes, the punts floating on the river, the cute little corners, the quirky little shops and the endlessly green parks… I could keep on like this forever, but I think for me the actual love is in the memories. When I walk these streets I don’t pass one corner without a flashback of that one special day, this odd night here or that one thing I did over there.
Cambridge was my first home away from home. Every time I come back, it’s the same and yet so different, but isn’t that the real beauty of calling many places your home and seeing the world? For me the appeal in being an expat and moving is exactly that: the ability to enjoy myself in the moment and appreciate the time I have in a place until curiosity pulls me away to my next adventure. I am grateful to be able to look back with one happy and one sad eye, but most importantly with this endless gratefulness and love for this special place.