friendship

The first thing you worry about when moving abroad is mostly how lonely you're going to be. With family a good distance away and certainly not within reaching-distance if something were to go wrong, you rely entirely upon the friends you make when you move away.

The very first true friend I made I am sure will stick with me for life. Meg and I were mostly joined at the hip from the moment we met in October until she left for Germany in March. She helped me get settled in and introduced me to a lot of the good friends I have now, and I in turn took great pleasure in cooking for her most evenings. We shared food, gossip, the same taste in alcohol and the same views on some people. Be they good or bad. Also the same address (more or less). We were never too far away and never too busy to find something to do together.

Coming just at a time when I really needed her, Ellie turned up, both of us ex-school-friends excited at the prospect of living so close to each other after almost three years living at opposite ends of the country. Her energy, excitement and enthusiasm seemingly never-ending, we'd often have intense conversations about our futures, our fears and our ultimate goals. And then, after the briefest of moments, she went. Her brave decision to leave Italy and head to Germany instead still inspires me and will remain something I think back on whenever I have an important choice to make.

Without these two important figures in my life here, each of us helping each other through the difficulties you encounter during a year abroad, I thought I'd find myself lost and lonely as I'd been convinced I would be at the beginning. 

But the truth is along the journey of this year I've picked up some truly inspiring friends. Each of them heading down a different path in life and each with their own outlook on the future/past/present. And we always have such a wonderful time together. 

Take yesterday for example. An example of the snowball effect. What went from meeting one friend, to inviting another and another resulted in the perfect Sunday afternoon with some great girls.

I know by the end of my time here, I'll be thanking these girls for everything they've given me (including tonnes of support) throughout the year.

the dangers of being spontaneous

So it basically all started when a friend told me he'd found cheap flights to Gothenburg for a weekend. When I asked him how cheap, he replied with a number I'd been dreading - only a quarter of what Hugo and I'd been paying every single other visit between us.

I had also just found out that as per the Italian way, nobody had told me of the upcoming week off lessons. 

I duly whinged to Hugo about these two facts and he planted that little tiny idea in my head that I could come out sooner than originally planned.

It was a Sunday night, and I'd booked to fly out the coming Friday. So we checked on the website and lo and behold there was a cheap flight available for the following afternoon. 

I clicked on 'book'. 

Nothing happened. 

I clicked again. 

Nothing. 

In my state of feeling very much like this was the first ever truly spontaneous thing I'd ever done in my life ever I agreed with Hugo that I'd get up at 5:30 the next morning, travel the 3 hours it takes to get to Milan airport and buy my flight there and then. 

Obviously my stomach was turning and churning so much I hardly got any sleep, but the next morning, before sunrise I headed for Milan.

I got to the ticket office. I bought the ticket. It couldn't have been simpler! And so I got on the flight.

Two hours, a hop, skip and a bus ride later Hugo met me at the station and we began to spend the eight beautiful days we now had, together.

We filled our days with concerts (Mahler, Britten, Sibelius, Mozart), zoos, shopping, vintage, cafés, bars, friends, sushi, burgers, sunshine, nature, lakes, picnics, parades, buses, trams and trains, scrabble, worms, connect 4, lazy afternoons, and tonnes of arguments about how to chop onions correctly.

And when it was time for me to get back on the plane to go home, I was heartbroken to have to leave it all and him behind, just as I felt we were both finally getting a chance to really get to enjoy Gothenburg in all its splendour. 

Hugo took me back to the airport, where I would check into my flight (hopefully without a problem as I'd been worrying all week about 'that ticket I booked that I didn't end up using...'). He went for a wander as I tried to tackle the self-service machines.

"No Booking Registered" it said to me.

No... booking... registered?? 

I started to panic. Scanned everything through again, including my passport which told the machine I'd be flying via Amsterdam that day but no more than that.

With no sign of Hugo anywhere, I scuttled nervously over to the ticket desk to sort things out. 

The kind Swedish woman behind the desk pleasantly informed me that I "would not be allowed to board the flight as your booking has been cancelled. If you'd like to fly today you need to buy a brand new ticket. That's what happens if you don't get your outbound flight."

In a teary-eyed mess, I tracked Hugo down, who gave me a hug and steered me towards the ticket offices. We asked for a ticket for the flight. They told me it'd be £500. I cried. Full on cried.

We were directed to the nearby ticket office for SAS airlines and then asked the same question. 

The woman smiled sympathetically, asked if I was under 25 so that I could qualify for "youth prices" then printed me out a ticket for an extremely reasonable price.

With a different flight booked and 3 more hours to spare, we hopped on the bus back into town, grabbed lunch and a coffee and said goodbye for the second time that day.

I was very ill when I returned home. I'm putting it down to stress.

As a bonus, my bike was stolen.

So here's the lesson:

BE SPONTANEOUS! 

It's fun! That week I spent with Hugo was the best week I've had all year.

But. Don't be too spontaneous...