Familiar

David is in London for work this week. It hasn't been easy for many reasons. I have had help over bedtime every day which I cannot begin to express gratitude for, but I am alone at night. And typically, Adam seems to have caught some sort of cold - he's even lost his voice - so there was one night in particular that was even harder than I could have imagined.

But there's another thing I'm struggling with. It's made me think of England again. He's in a place that still feels like home. It's gotten better, time has made it easier, I don't actively miss it every day any longer. But when I stop and think about it, it does actually... hurt. Maybe I sound crazy but sometimes leaving England feels a little bit like a break up. I'm left with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and a slightly broken heart.

I look at pictures, and things and places are so familiar, and on some level I cannot comprehend that they are not part of my immediate world any longer. I cannot comprehend why I no longer have easy access to things that were part of the landscape, things I took for granted for so long. Even things I didn't particularly like - they're just missing. Part of my brain just doesn't get the fact that I don't live there anymore and in a way, it makes it even harder.

Gah. Will it ever end?

[image]

While We're in Transit: A Thank You to England

Before I moved here I was a mouse. A mouse with big opinions which were kept in a very frustrated but locked box at the back of my mind. That box was never opened, I was too scared. Too scared to say anything or to stand up for myself.

When we moved here I was terrified. My naiveté and my complete and utter trust in humankind led to disappointment on a daily basis. I quickly learnt to speak up, be heard, make people listen. I became suspicious of everyone and very, very angry all the time.

Over the years I grew and matured and eventually I came to realize that being angry and suspicious all the time was making me suffer. Only me: no one else. I learnt to tone it down. I learnt to be nice to people again, and I learnt to unleash the inner guard dog only when necessary.

I've come a long way since we moved to England. I am a very different person to the quiet, scared girl who got on that plane in April 2006. There's still a lot of work to be done, I am a masterpiece in progress. Part of the reason I find moving back to Malta scary is because I just don't know how this "new" person will reintegrate back into a country where so many people are afraid to speak up lest they offend anyone else, and where people are happy to settle for mediocre because it might be too much hassle to push for more. 

But I am happy with and proud of the person I have become. And I have England to thank for that - and by "England" of course, I don't just mean the physical country. It is the people and the experiences I encountered during our time here, the way of life, the good and the bad and the everything. 



Having said all this, I'm quite sure there are also elements of me that existed in Malta that had to be left behind when we moved away that I will be glad to welcome back. I'm not yet sure what these are, but suffice it to say, it's not all sadness. Somehow a balance will be achieved and I won't lose my mind over it. We haven't made this decision on a whim, it has taken months and months and I know that we will be happy. 

So here goes...

See you on the other side x

(Pic is me in 2003... I was also really slim.... that could be one of the things I regain in Malta.... hah!)

Conversations with Emily

We visited Daddy at work yesterday, which meant catching the train to London. The last time we caught the train, Emily wasn't quite into trains and buses yet, but now she most certainly is and she loved it. The train journey out was so funny, I just had to try and jot down part of the conversation (well, monologue mostly) on the way back. This is what I saved on my iphone notepad: (note that she calls herself Elly)


Emily (looking out the window, for cows): Animals! Where are you, animals?

I am giving you the correct version here. The above in reality sounds more like "Amoos! Wheyayoo, amoos?"

Me: Shall we look for animals?

Emily: Yes

Me (there were no cows in sight, so attempting a diversion): Look, there are lots of trains and cars!

Emily: Trains! Cars! One two three six. Oh goodness! More more cars!

(The train doors open.)

Uh-oh open! Close! (She knocks on the partition behind us.) Hello? Who there?

(She tries to close the door, from inside the train. Needless to say, unsuccessfully.)

Elly sit. Ok. (She sits down.)

(Door closes)

Yay Elly! Good girl!
Wow more train! Another one!
Uh-oh gone. Ok.

(She notices me taking note of all this on my phone.)

Game?


At which point I handed over the phone to let her play a game.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am never bored of spending time with this little girl... She is absolutely hilarious!

PS We find out what flavour Squiggle is tomorrow! Get your guesses in quick!!

Farewell to a Dear Friend

Today is a bittersweet day. One of the very first friends I made in London, who also happens to be Maltese, is moving back to Malta. She is in almost every memory of life in London I can think of, she was our companion on almost every road trip, she was with us when we began househunting and she helped us measure up the house we eventually bought. She is also Emily's godmother.

I won't deny that I've shed tears over her move, but I'm happy for her because it is something she really wants to do and she has big, exciting plans. And I know we'll get to see her every time we visit.

So, good luck and much love to you, dear Danielle. Thank you for being there along the way x

France, 2008 - with matching scarves

Freezing in Belgium, 2009

Lucky Emily with both her godparents, last weekend

London, An Elevated View

When we first arrived in England, back in 2006, we said we'd do one of those hop-on-hop-off bus tours of London, but never got round to it...

Almost five years later, we used our second wedding anniversary as an excuse to finally make it happen. Last weekend, in an early celebration (our anniversary is actually the 4th October), we headed into London. We started with an early lunch at Wagamama, then found a bus and hopped onto it.

It was cold, but the weather cooperated. And it was lovely. I'll leave you with a quick glimpse of London - as seen from the top of a double-decker bus.







[more...]

Four

Today is an important day. It is the fourth anniversary of our move from Malta to this beautiful country we now call home. I can't believe it's already been this long, and yet we've come so far and become stronger people, in a stronger relationship. Last year I wrote about the move in detail. I love remembering, it makes me appreciate the enormity of the step we took, and how perfectly we held each other up throughout it. And how much we've experienced since then, and seen, and done.

Despite how very difficult it was, I'd do it all again if I had the chance.

[img cred]

The One About British Weather

Allow me to address a common - and grating - misconception about
English weather...

England is a rather large country (compared to what I know - see below). David and I live in the South where, admittedly, weather is far more favourable than the North. And I suspect it is the North people mostly associate British weather with.

But, speaking for the part of the country I know, it is not always raining. It is not always gray. Take today, for example: a perfectly beautiful sunny day in December - perfect weather for people to be out galavanting in the streets dressed up in corsets for the Dickensian Christmas Festival. It is a high of 12 or 13 degrees celsius and no more than a few wisps of cirrus clouds for miles. And just like this one, there are plenty other days like it.

The summers are beautiful. And if I, coming from a hot Mediterranean island country, can say this, there must be some truth to it, non? Sure, there's more rain than there'd be in summer back home (read: none), but balance is a good thing, is it not?

So really... 'England = gray and rain' is not quite right. And frankly, even when it is gray and rainy, all you need to do is appreciate the plush green areas that would not be able to exist without some rain. So the next time someone in Malta or anywhere else passes a sarcastic remark about British weather when I mention that it's a gorgeous day, I'll simply be directing them to this post, and be done with it.

And as I sit here, with the central heating off and windows ajar to let the house breathe in the perfectly crisp air, I hope that this has been at least slightly educational. (And listen to me obsessing about the weather! Could I be any more British than this?!)

educationally,

Remembering: Three Years Ago

Today three years ago was a day I'd simultaneously been dying for and dreading. It was the day David and I left Malta and moved to England. It wasn't a temporary move, we knew that. We knew we wouldn't be returning for good (until possibly retirement age!). This year, at last, the date doesn't make me feel sad. This morning, David and I lazily recalled the problems we encountered (setting up bank accounts, missing boxes, etc) and the minor culture shocks (even though many in Malta insist that the fact that we speak English means that moving to England is no trouble at all); acknowledged how far we've come since that day.

We'd been together for 10 months at the time. I know many people thought we were crazy. Certainly about each other. Possibly the other type too. Who knows? Who cares? It worked out :)

We'd gotten engaged ten days before, a shotgun engagement if ever there was one. I packed up my entire room in a daze. I wasn't quite sure what was going on realistically until the day before we left, when my parents came to say good night and we cried and cried. My heart breaks a little bit again just remembering it.

That first day in the UK was a shred of hell. It's been a MANIC three days. First day was godawful. I thought I'd never settle in. I was exhausted, working on 3 hours of sleep, totally exhausted and emotional, having just left my entire family behind. And once we got here, everything started going wrong. We tried to open bank accounts, and were refused; got sim cards that are enabled to call overseas cheaply, but were told it'd take 48hours to activate them; tried to find calling cards, but no one's ever heard of Malta; didnt find the phone line we were told would be waiting for us [at the flat] when we arrive - we were instead informed that our order was 'misplaced' and would have to be reinitiated and that'd take 1.5 weeks - from an old blog. Had I been given the chance to simply turn back, I possibly might have that day. Things got better after that though and thanks still goes to Natwest for being the only bank to give us the time of day and to put a smile on my face for the first time ever in England!

By the next day, I was feeling much more positive: The dock is lovely. Just outside the window and balcony we often have visitors of the ducky type. The swans don't usually come too close (snobs). But we still get to see them swimming gracefully along the dock as if they own the place. Then at night, the ducks sleep on the boats in the dock. It really brings everything to life so much more.

I love it here :)

We'd moved into a small 1.5 bedroomed flat overlooking Royal Victoria Dock in East London. I suppose the water being so close by made us feel slightly more 'at home.' If nothing else, there were some terrific views.



Within a week David was at work. I stopped using the Internet Cafe in Greenwich and finally had internet at home. A month later, I started working too. Visitors never ceased. They were our lifeline to Malta. The tears slowed down. Concerts, theatre, travel all became part of a lifestyle we love. We moved out of that flat a year later and into a larger one very close by, and so on and so forth from then on.



In reality we were just a couple of kids trying to make it somewhere in a big, big world.

All pictures dated April 2006.