On Wednesday morning, I was sat waiting for my flight details home. The season in Mallorca is slowly coming to an end with my hotel being the first to close. The other teams on the island are all complete and in need of additions so the only option is to fly back to the UK. I was convinced I was going home and although I said I wasn’t bothered whether I stay or go, I was secretly gutted to be waiting for my flight details. Of course, I wanna go home, sleep in my own bed, see my family and friends but on the other hand, this has been my life for five and a half months now. I have settled, made myself at home, made some incredible friends, experienced a tiny corner of the world and this is now my life. This is now the norm with my own little routine and the idea of going home feels weird. Then I get the call. My flight details are a transfer to Tenerife four days later. So now here I am, chilling in Madrid airport waiting for my connecting flight to my next adventure. It hasn’t quite sunk in yet because I was so convinced I was going home and it has all happened so quickly that it is still a bit surreal. Yet again, I am back to square one, both scared and excited about this adventure. I am nervous about where I will live, if I’ll make friends, if I’ll enjoy the island, what my team will be like. I am excited about the amazing people I could meet, the great adventures I could have and the fact that I get to share it with one of the best friends I made in Mallorca. I’m a rollercoaster of emotions. I’m terrified but looking forward to this new adventure. Stay tuned…


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