Many may think that 2020 is being crazy, but for me, 2019 was even crazier. How can this be? Well, lets start from the beginning.
I am a planner, always have been and I’m afraid, will be for life. Ever since I was 16 I knew what I wanted to do with my life. That included at least where I was going to live the next 6 years… kind of crazy but that’s how I am.
So, after 3 years of college in Oviedo, a small city just 2 hours away from my home town, an Erasmus year in Northern Ireland, and an extra year doing a Master’s degree in Granada, I knew that I needed to move to Ireland.
I fell in love with the country in my Erasmus year and thanks to a small trip to the city of Cork to go see an Ed Sheeran’s concert, I was convinced that I belonged there.
So it was decided, after 5 years studying full time during the academic year and working during the summers in a chiringuito (crazy busy restaurant located near a beach), I decided that my first year as a working “young-adult”, was going to be spent in Cork.
I had fell for the city, I already knew that Irish people were as kind and fun as Mediterranean, so my decision was taken for good.
During the last few months studying in Granada, one of my best friends, which I had meet in Northern Ireland, but who is a Andalusian as it gets, joined my plan.
I was used to starting from zero everywhere I went, I did it in Oviedo, Northern Ireland, and Granada; but starting this crazy adventure with a friend seemed like the best thing to do.
So after another summer working in the dreaded chiringuito I had saved enough money to start the adventure. By the end of September, I took the plane from my city to London, and there I meet my friend. I still remember how crazy everything was when we meet. We had been just 3 months apart but when I saw her I realized that I missed her too much.
We spent 2 hours trying to relocate the clothes of her luggage because of some ridiculous change in the weight allowance for our next flight and we were finally on our way to Cork. When we entered the plane, we swore that we were never going back to London… how innocent we were.
Cork — Ireland
Okay, so now we are in Cork, a lovely city, that welcomed us with heavy rain and a odd Airbnb host that slept in the living room. We did not care, we were finally doing it! We were in Cork and the search for a house and a job began.
We spent the first days adjusting to the country, this might sound weird, but it takes some work to get use to constant rain and dark skies.
I remember that on our second night there we meet with a friend who was living and working in the city. We laughed and danced for hours but there was a thing that filled all the conversations. All the people we encountered kept mentioning how difficult it was to find a place in the city. Everybody from Europe came to Cork to work but there was not enough housing.
We kept laughing about it and if I’m being honest, we didn’t give it much though during the following days.
I had already several job interviews planned for the next week and we focused on finding a permanent place to stay. We had two more weeks left in the Airbnb but we were eager to find an dream house were we could start our new lives.
Well, this search became tiring and with the days, even depressing. We ended up meeting a couple of American girls who were also searching for a place and we decided to make a team a look for a house for four people instead of a shared flat. It shouldn’t be that difficult right? We had the money, and were the ideal kind of tenants: young responsible girls, with money to pay the rent.
WRONG, we spent the following week going to open houses, making up our portfolio and even including some made-up information to try to get a change at getting a house. At this point we were tired of searching the web and we had been in all the shops of the city, which is not as big as one may think. We meet several agents and we even increased our budget, it was getting ridiculous… we were willing to pay up to 1,000€ each and we still didn’t get any call backs.
Summing it up a little, we all got tired of looking… the American girls decided to try their luck in Dublin as they only had a working VISA for Irenald, and my friend and I started wandering what to do next. I was sure that I wanted to continue with the adventure, but I knew that I might had to go to another country to do this. And the most obvious thing to do was to go to a place where we could find a place to live and a job, and that was the UK.
The United Kingdom is not bad, right? No is not, but I had already been in London, Leeds, and Manchester several times. And due to my Mediterranean features I always was lucky enough to encounter at least two or three racist people during my time in the country. I know we are not supposed to generalize and that you can find racists anywhere but the feeling of being discriminated because of your race is a thing difficult to forget.
What the heck, I had studied English Literature at college, so I knew more about that culture and country than any other.
So after some discussion, and after deciding against Edinburgh and Portsmouth for the fear of encountering the same problem as in Cork, we bought tickets to take us back to London. Yes, the city we had swore not to go back to.
I guess that is how life works, as soon as you decide something, fate comes and makes you rethink things.
London — England
We arrived on a sunny day and our Airbnb was the prettiest thing on earth. It was 5 minutes away from one of the biggest shopping malls of the city, and this kept us busy for a couple of days.
However, as soon as we arrived we started our search for a place. We were not picky anymore, I mean, we were even thinking about finding separe places to stay if that made the search easier.
We met with a man in a small office where people were shouting in other languages and there was too much going on. We didn’t care, he told us that there was a flat with two spare rooms that were going to be available in 5 days. We said yes, and we took the bus with him.
We arrived to the place in 10 minutes, and we were shocked, the residential place looked like a scene taken from a crime scene. But we were raised in small villages so the whole city seemed like that to us.
We entered the flat, in which 3 more people were living but we didn’t see any. He showed us one of the rooms. It had a queen sized bed, an old wardrobe, and a little desk. He could not show us the other room as there was a boy still living there and he was not there to let us in.
We were at a point at which we didn’t care anymore. We talked for 2 minutes while the man waited outside. He told us that he had four more people coming that same day to see the rooms. We didn’t know if that was true, but we were in no position to hesitate.
WE SAID YES. We went back to that smelly room he called office and we signed the papers. In 5 days we had to meet again an he would give as the keys.
We had finally made it. We had a place to stay and we could finally breath. We called our families, that at this point were going crazy. We were two twenty-two year old girls jumping from island to island and with nobody to shelter them and they were scared. You need to know that both our families never really understood what we had done, but at the end of the day they supported all our choices.
That day we slept like babies. You can imagine how happy we were, everything was starting to look good at last. It took us 4 weeks to find a place to live and 3 different flights to get there. We had spent more than 1,500€ already, the Airbnbs and all the transport took a hard to our saving. But it was over. We were living in London.
When we got the keys and entered the flat, we were so ecstatic that even the smell was still there was welcomed. After some discussion my friend took the “big” room, and I got the “small” one.
However, the big room had just enough space to fit the bed and a standing person. Mine, had a tiny bed and not enough space to open the wardrobe that often got stuck with the desk chair. But we were happy.
We cleaned everything with bleach and started to settle down.
I had posted my CV the previous day and I had already several interviews scheduled.
I ended up taking the job from the first interview as it was just ten minutes away from the house by tube and the people seemed nice. I mean, being a waitress was the same everywhere and I had plenty of experience working on a much demanding possition.
My friend, enrolled at a language school as she wanted to improve her English and we started with our new routines.
A New Routine
A month had already gone by and I barely saw my friend, my shifts made me arrive home late most nights and I was starting to go out with my workmates. I was happy, I was starting to make friends and enjoy the city life. I was living the dream you could say, that is if you do not count the 14 hour-shifts and having no weekends off.
But I was happy doing it. After 5 years studying and working I felt free at last. There was no pressure to get good grades or scholarships, I was working alongside nice people, my manager was good to me, and I was able to buy everything I wanted.
Materialistic much? Maybe, but I come from a humble family and getting to get a nice coat or the latest trainers made me happy.
However, as I was starting my life in London, my friend was getting more and more depressed with hers. All the people at her school were teenagers who had nothing in common with her and she spent her nights talking with her long-distance boyfriend and her family.
I tried to get her to come with me most nights, but she was never up to it. Nevertheless, in my days off, I woke up early and we went everywhere you can think of around the city. I was trying to get her to enjoy the city as much as I was doing. We saw everything and we even got to see Mamma Mia!
She bought tickets for us for my birthday and I still remember that day as one of the best times I had there.
Another month past and we were talking about the Christmas holidays. I had no break at work so I had to stay, but my friend was ready to buy the tickets to spend the holidays at home. And suddenly, three weeks before her departure, she called me late at work.
I remember how her voice broke while she told me that she was not staying up that night. I realized that something was wrong so I told my manager and I got to get out of work earlier. I arrived home and I saw her crying at the balcony. Her boyfriend had called and had said that he was not sure about his feelings anymore. She was devastated and didn’t know what to do. We stayed until 5 am talking and she decided she could not stay at London anymore.
The last weeks I had been too absorbed in my life to realize how bad everything was going for her. She used to be the happy girl who spent the days singing and dancing, and she had turned into a quiet quiet girl that looked lost. I knew that she needed to go, but that didn’t mean that I was happy about it.
In three days she had left and with her she took a small part of me. The farewell was emotional and we cried like babies. I wrote her a letter to open when she was home as I was not ready to say everything that night. She had become my sister and it hurt like hell to be without her.
Christmas was around the corner and I was not okay. My friends back at home realized and they booked flights to come and spent New Years Eve with me. I’m still grateful for that. They transformed a sad memory into a cheerful one. Four of my best friends came and we managed to arrange my friend’s old room into a conformable enough place for them. I bought a inflatable mattress and the adventure began. They stayed for 6 days and the magic of Christmas transformed the city.
You have never lived the spirit of Christmas until you discover all the hidden places that bring London to live during those days.
When they left, the sadness was back with all its power. But a call from my parents surprised me. They wanted to come and visit. Yes, those parents from the small town in the mountains in the north of Spain. They knew that I was at a low point and they were willing to travel to this foreing country to cheer me up.
They arrived and the shock never left their faces. I think that I have never loved my family and friends more. They were there when I most needed them and I will never forget it.
After the visits, I got used to being there “alone”. My mates from work became really close friends and we were constantly making plans for our days off. From February to May I was back. And I had never been happier. Several boys came and go but I knew that my time in the city was coming to an end.
Plans and Changes
As I said at the beginning, I am a person who plans EVERYTHING.
So, you could say that London was not planned. Cork was the city were I was meant to be. In a beautiful house.With my best friend.
However, London was were I was destined to be. In a smelly flat. In a tiny room. With new friends.
When the time came to leave the city, I cried. A lot. I left my job a month before my departure and several friends came to visit. I needed the time to say a proper goodbye to the city that even thought I was decided to hate, treated me with kind and love.
I never imagined that I could make life in there, the tube seemed scary and my neighbours continued to be mystery after 8 months. but it was alright. I was alright.
So this year, a year I had planned to study for the state exams was again altered. My plan changed, a virus came and after 6 months of studying, my exams were postponed to 2021.
Was I angry? Yes.
Should I stay mad though? No.
Everything planned is meant to be changed. Change, however, is GOOD. It took me a while to understand it, but now I know it. Now I live for those changes.
Change made me go through the best and worst year of my life. It took me from Ireland, to England. From the small city, to the metropolis. From the conformable, to the unknown. From a friend, to many others.
So thank you Cork, for being impossibly crowded.
And thank you London, for taking me from a crowd and make me one of your own.
