Just back from another trip, and I love how:
- my wallet contains a confused mix of coinage
- the bottom of my bag houses a unique blend of the world’s sandy beaches [and also receipts from places I can barely read nor pronounce]
- my hallway looks like a car boot sale [it's normally immaculate]
- I’m at ease living in just a few versatile outfits [and I haven't worn jeans for months]
- I don’t quite trust whether my watch’s time is on the correct time zone [or know what 'correct' is]
- I have lost track of weekends
- I have more postcard-esque first hand photos than most postcard shops
- I catch myself saying “thank you” in the incorrect language
- I hoard sweeteners for coffee and tissues as I’m still uncertain as to where I’ll be able to buy them next
- even plain home cooking tastes exotic [but everything is more fun when eaten with chopsticks!]
Although, I’m not so keen on how:
- I’m missing out on that Bank Holiday “just cheated my way out of a day’s work” feeling
- I make friends roll their eyes as all my sentences begin with “when I was travelling…” or “when I was in…”
But I wouldn’t swap any of the above for the world! It’s a lovely feeling











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