FebBrighton
January has gone and finally we're already in February, the month of love and fried stuffs. I love February since 2005 when I left for Brighton with my class. It was the 22th of February, I was sixteen and that journey meant so much for me.
First time on the plain, first time abroad, first time so far from home but I've never been so exited. I landed in Gatwick with my luggage (which would have weigh more than me) and my earphones while I was listening "give me novacaine". I was hungry and cold. We met the lady who gave us accommodation and she drove home where she started to speak about rules, organization, timetable. Then, I think that our faces started to ask for something: "you should be hungry, girls!" She said. Luckily my mate brought one package of pasta and a small jar of pesto as a gift from Italy. Actually it was our dinner that night.
I think this is the best journey I've ever done in my life. It doesn't matter if the lady gave me muesli bars every morning even if I told her that I was allergic to oats. It doesn't matter if I didn't feel my arms anymore because of my luggage. It doesn't matter if my boyfriend was waiting for me in Italy. I have seen the Big Ben, I've eaten the best cookie ever, I have spoken English all day long and from our room we could see wonderful sunsets.
It was 2005, it was Brighton, it was an unforgettable February.
First time on the plain, first time abroad, first time so far from home but I've never been so exited. I landed in Gatwick with my luggage (which would have weigh more than me) and my earphones while I was listening "give me novacaine". I was hungry and cold. We met the lady who gave us accommodation and she drove home where she started to speak about rules, organization, timetable. Then, I think that our faces started to ask for something: "you should be hungry, girls!" She said. Luckily my mate brought one package of pasta and a small jar of pesto as a gift from Italy. Actually it was our dinner that night.
I think this is the best journey I've ever done in my life. It doesn't matter if the lady gave me muesli bars every morning even if I told her that I was allergic to oats. It doesn't matter if I didn't feel my arms anymore because of my luggage. It doesn't matter if my boyfriend was waiting for me in Italy. I have seen the Big Ben, I've eaten the best cookie ever, I have spoken English all day long and from our room we could see wonderful sunsets.
It was 2005, it was Brighton, it was an unforgettable February.
