Thursday, 18 April 2013

Moving away from home

On the 20th  of August  2012, I set off for Madrid with Craig. I had been so busy in the months and days up to the big move that it hadn't really sunk in that I was actually leaving home. The night before we left I  wasn't feeling sad or excited,  a weird calmness had washed over me. But as soon as my alarm went off that morning I honestly wished I could have stopped time just for a little while so I could simply stop. Stop worrying about finding a job, worrying about how my family would be feeling, worrying about the final result of my thesis and all the other fears that had awoken in my mind that morning.




I didn't have time to lie in my bed and just take a breather, I was very aware of the fact that I wouldn't be in my bedroom again until December. I looked around at the orange walls that I had painted all by myself in 2006 except for the ceiling which my dad insisted on doing, just  as well I thought to myself as I noticed the splotches of orange paint that remained on the floor near my bed. I looked at all the cut outs from magazines on my walls, most of them were in a pretty shabby state but I liked them and still do. It felt strange to think that my room would now be empty for so long. I still had some last minute packing to do. I didn't feel like crying and I honestly didn't think I would. I wanted to keep strong for my parents and  sisters. My mom came into my room a few minutes before I left with tears rolling down her face, an image I will never forget. It took all my mite not to cry. I smiled at her and gave her a hug. 

My gorgeous  and  mischievous Toto
I went out into the garden to say goodbye to my dog Toto. I won't be embarrassed by the fact that I talk out loud to my dog. I've been doing this since he arrived into my home and I wasn't going to stop now. I told him  that I loved him and I would miss him so much. And with that the first tears escaped my eyes. I composed myself before returning to the house so no one would know I had been crying. My dads car was packed up and we were ready to go. I gave my younger sister a hug, I could tell she was about to cry. To be honest I have no idea if I even told her I loved her or even said anything at all. I hoped into the camper, my dad was driving and my older sister was coming along for the drive. 
As we drove out the gate I spotted my mom in the garden, waving at us. I waved back and smiled. As soon as the house and my mom was out of sight I couldn't hold it in any longer. I wailed and wailed. God only knows how my poor father, sister and Craig were feeling! 
It felt good to get it out of my system. By the time I got to the railway station and had said my goodbyes I was feeling a lot better. I didn't cry as I left Tralee train station, my amazing sister and my dad. I felt so proud to be my fathers daughter. He and the family have been through our fair share since 2008.
 Dad walking on Banna strand


Craig and I took our seats on the train and I felt excited as we headed towards Dublin city. I was really hoping for the four hour journey to go by slowly as I love to just think about everything and nothing all at once when I am on a train. 
It felt like only an hour had gone passed and suddenly I found myself  outside Heuston station. We were staying in a hotel in Dublin that night as we had an early flight the next day. We went for a walk around the city, something we hadn't done for a while. I wanted to really relish my last few hours in Ireland and the city of Dublin is a great city to do that in. 
As I sit in my Spanish school and write this post it honestly feels like a life time ago. I am glad it is over with, I think that anytime I leave Ireland to go to a new country now it won't feel as sad as the first time around.  

In the next part to my travel series I will be talking about my first day in Madrid. 

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