In march 2015 Winchester, uni and England in general, was so far away. Some days my head convinced me that I’d made a mistake by applying in the first place, that moving so far away and starting uni in a new language was a bad plan. I “knew” it would be safer to take a gap year or to find a course in Oslo. At least then I’d understand everything my lecturers were saying and my tuition fees would be 50 instead of 11300 pounds. But where’s the fun in that? If there is one thing I’ve learnt over the last six months, it’s that the excitement lies in the challenge. In not knowing, and learning new things, words and phrases, every single day. In meeting people with viewpoints so far fetched from your own, that are still your friends. In getting to know a new city, mapping out all the alleyways and independent coffee shops, making it feel like home at a point in life where “home” is an unsteady structure that you’re simultaneously leaving and creating.
Safe to say, I don’t regret my decisions. I found home here.