Saying goodbye to my mother was more difficult than i could have ever imagined.
We drove by her work to spend one last hour with her before i set off on the high seas.
We sat and the excitement flooded over me. My nerves were somewhat calmed by my mother doting on me, surely trying to fill me with enough cake and biscuits to last me till the next time i venture home.
The time flew by and before i knew it i was saying my goodbyes. Mum welled up, as did i. After long heart-felt hug we looked at each other and for the first time i saw not my mum, but rather a mother. She was looking upon her creation, a final check that she had done her best; given me an education, a good upbringing, taught me about the ways of the world and making sure that i was really going to be alright.
I bottled down all of my emotions at that point and gave a reassuring look as if to say that i would be back and oh boy would i have stories to tell!
We headed for the boat. I had been up and down that road so many times that i could of gone to the moon and back.
We arrived at the boat and as i organised my tickets there was a ruckus at the door.
Two of my friends burst through the door in a mad state, eyes glaring widely around and resting upon me before sprinting towards me and we embraced with tears nearly overflowing and excitement shooting through every fibre of my existence. Jason my ex, my past and on of my closest friends Claire who's built me up time and time again and getting me ready for life. My past and present came to say goodbye to me whilst i said hello to my future.
I posted a fleeting note on Facebook a few hours previously, the best of which i thought would be a few "likes" and perhaps a comment or two wishing me luck but the fact these two came to see me off was truly heart warming. I took my final goodbyes and boarded the boat. That would be the last time i would see my friends and family for over a year.
Tuesday 16 August 2011
Monday 15 August 2011
Recap
Well, this past year (and a bit) has been quite the ride.
Let's start from the beginning...
The date was April 21st 2010, the outlook was bleak. A volcano in Iceland decided to erupt into full blown action. This would have normally been a rather interesting event for me however it played havoc with my planes to fly that day. My tickets had already been cancelled, my dreams of moving dashed and i woke up on that Tuesday morning with an aching inside, a feeling that I'm reminiscing just now.
I used most of the time that day to visit relatives before returning home to find a distraction from current events. This, of course, was difficult since the news was being broadcast over almost every type of media. However, there was to come a silver lining on the ash covered clouds.
Her name was - and I'm trying not to be the stereotypical homosexual - my mother.
She called me up at 4 in the afternoon, a hint of excitement in her voice, telling me that because of the ash cloud currently consuming northern Europe no planes were going. It was at this point i abruptly reminded her that this information was not new and (more to the point) not making me feel better. She proceeded to tell me that there were stranded Brits in Bergen, unable to fly back and thus the British government ask a ferry company to send a boat from Orkney to Bergen. Since i was living in Orkney at the time, this seemed like an opportunity that not only had to be jumped upon but darted, tied down and beaten into submission.
I called the ferry company at once, enthusiasm nearly overflowing. After much tooing and froing i managed to secure myself passage to Bergen. This was not going to be an easy journey, my fear of boats coupled with the 20 hour voyage was nearly enough for me to back out but i gathered myself, and my belongings, and prepared myself for the bumpy ride ahead.
Let's start from the beginning...
The date was April 21st 2010, the outlook was bleak. A volcano in Iceland decided to erupt into full blown action. This would have normally been a rather interesting event for me however it played havoc with my planes to fly that day. My tickets had already been cancelled, my dreams of moving dashed and i woke up on that Tuesday morning with an aching inside, a feeling that I'm reminiscing just now.
I used most of the time that day to visit relatives before returning home to find a distraction from current events. This, of course, was difficult since the news was being broadcast over almost every type of media. However, there was to come a silver lining on the ash covered clouds.
Her name was - and I'm trying not to be the stereotypical homosexual - my mother.
She called me up at 4 in the afternoon, a hint of excitement in her voice, telling me that because of the ash cloud currently consuming northern Europe no planes were going. It was at this point i abruptly reminded her that this information was not new and (more to the point) not making me feel better. She proceeded to tell me that there were stranded Brits in Bergen, unable to fly back and thus the British government ask a ferry company to send a boat from Orkney to Bergen. Since i was living in Orkney at the time, this seemed like an opportunity that not only had to be jumped upon but darted, tied down and beaten into submission.
I called the ferry company at once, enthusiasm nearly overflowing. After much tooing and froing i managed to secure myself passage to Bergen. This was not going to be an easy journey, my fear of boats coupled with the 20 hour voyage was nearly enough for me to back out but i gathered myself, and my belongings, and prepared myself for the bumpy ride ahead.
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