Today I crossed over the Pyrenees from Spain to France. Otherwise, a largely insignificant crossing, as suggested by the lack of an actual sign telling me I crossed the border. Though the French number plates and change of road signs give a pretty good clue.
But this crossing means something to me. Because exactly two years ago I cycled into Spain from Andorra and made it my home. It’s the end of an era. Those two years have shaped and changed my life in ways previously unimaginable: I became an English teacher for an academy, and taught business English in various companies around Barcelona. I grew the confidence to stand up in front of large groups of people and
act like be an idiot. I made close, real and genuine friends that I truly feel love for; people that affected me so deeply, right to my bones, my heart. And those beach days, those drunken nights, the students and their banter; all those different lives! The flat and the huge terrace, my (too) many flatmates from all over the world. The barbecues. The cycling to work and crossing the city faster than any car. Walking around Menorca. Then there’s Montseny, the Delta, Sitges, Montserrat, correfoks, La Malandrina, San Fermin, the parties, the Pyrenees…the broken nose! Running those sunny hills, the marathon and all this Spain gave me on my cycle around it. I’ll miss you, España. Espero verte pronto.
Hasta luego, Agur (Basque), Adeus (Galician), Adéu (Catalan)
Catch ye efter! (Scottish)