My time back in the UK was weird. Good but weird. As future blog will show!
I had some great fun meetups with my mates and family, and I definitely should have put the cat in my suitcase and smuggled her back to Madrid, but still somehow it was odd. The flat felt strange for the first few days though it didn't by the end.
But the couple of times I referred to going back to Madrid as "going home", I was met with slight surprise by the person I said it to, yet it felt totally normal to me. But is it home? Kind of. It's where I spend the majority of my time. Yet I don't have a "real" job, I'm renting a room in a shared flat, I still get lost (a lot!). I've got friends here, but I've known all of them less than 2 years, and in most cases, only since March. Having said that, they're fast becoming very good friends.
With the other Anglos (or should that just be non-Spaniards?), maybe it's the shared experience of living abroad that kind of throws us together. Someone said to me today though that it's a perfect opportunity to meet people that probably you wouldn't meet under any other circumstances. They're right - the majority of my mates in the UK are either school or work related. Common ground, of course. And without exception, they're great and I wouldn't be without them. But I guess it's another comfort zone thing - there's no impetus to find/need other people there!
So maybe I have 2 homes. Or none. Maybe I'm just learning to enjoy wherever I am.