oh England

This weekend, the boyfriend came to visit. A brief, flying visit it seemed to be, and hardly long enough. But it was so good to see his face again for one last time before we finish our Autumn terms in our own places then head back to England for Christmas.

It was nice to get a feel for a new city that both of us had never been to before, so we made full use of the fact that the boy had flown into an airport in Milan and stayed a night there, the next day panning out as touristically as we could manage round the city centre. One of my favourite things about being somewhere new with nothing too specific really planned is that you get to wander down the roads and through the winding back streets, with your eyes peeled for beautiful things that - in your home town - would usually pass you by.

We then took the train back to Parma and I began to show him my City - the streets I like to walk, the places I love to eat and drink copious amounts of Italian-style coffee, the places I am now a regular at, and the things I usually stop and stare at and really make me appreciate being here.

And now it's as if my man has made his mark on Parma. Little things will remind me of him now whilst I'm here - even things as small as us holding hands and walking through the Parco Ducale - and it puts a smile on my face just thinking about it.

But as I walked away from him in the airport today and made the long journey home, not only did I already miss his arm round my shoulder or even just our conversations, I started to miss everything about England too - my thoughts centering mostly around how best to speed up time between now and when I next see my man again.

All of a sudden it was as if a trigger went off in my head and all these thoughts and things that I missed and will miss and that mostly wouldn't be possible here came flooding into my mind.

I wrote them down:

- The boyfriend, and all the boyfriendy things he comes with

- Clementines and mince pies

- English countryside and walks with my dog

- Cosy cafés and chats with friends; the kinds of chats which are so busy and quick-paced and full of catching-up and about three thousand things at the same time

- Proper British Pubs

- My Dad's cooking

- Fresh bread and toast

- Car chats with my mum

- Gin and tonic made properly

- My sister Dawn's excitement about Christmas

- Conversations about science-fiction or good books or good films with my brother Toby

- Sleepovers with my other sister Faith

- Real bacon

- Singing in church every Sunday

- Nearly every aspect of studying and being at Newcastle (including the friends there)

- Floors with real carpets

- Real milk

- Marks and Spencer

- Sunday Lunch; and, to be honest, any other food which doesn't involve ham, pasta or cheese (tomatoes still acceptable)

Don't get me wrong, this isn't a complaint about things here as much as just a wistful reminiscence of back home in England. The fact of the matter is that it is genuinely difficult to adjust yourself to living in a new country. Rules and regulations will never be the same - even the system of paying at a café here still confuses me. The people are not the same. They're no worse or better, just different. And I will always be a foreigner. A foreigner who orders a cappuccino after midday even though it's almost offensive to real Italians here, who eats the wrong things at the wrong times of day, who even sings differently, who looks different and who acts differently.

To all of you also on a year abroad, I'm sure all of this is a completely common feeling.

And to all of you currently in England - I envy you. Take pride in your Englishness/Britishness and appreciate (on my behalf) everything you'd usually take for granted. Like a toaster.

I miss toasters.