Everyone’s a Foreigner Somewhere (Part 1 of 2)

As I’ve already mentioned in my first blog-post, I’ve been overseas for just over a month so far. That being said, I’m going to take this opportunity to (somewhat briefly?) describe what it was like upon arriving here. Rather than jamming it all in one lengthy post, I’ve decided that I’m going to split it into 2 parts (possibly 3). Bear with me as I attempt to rake my terrible memory for you.

This past month (specifically the first few weeks) was a complete transition period for me as I immersed myself in this totally different British/Welsh (let’s just say UK) culture. At times it was a breeze, but at other times, of course, I struggled. Looking back, aside from the initial culture shock, there were some necessary adjustments I needed to make to my daily living. I wish I could list them off, but they’re all little things here and there that collectively make up what I suppose is the British culture.

I mean, from the moment I stepped outside Heathrow Airport in London, it immediately hit me that I was now in a very different world. I was experiencing a sensory-overload of sorts as I walked out of the airport and into the streets; it looked, sounded, smelled, and felt very different to me. And then I found a bench to sit on as I waited for my bus to Swansea, and I simply smiled, because it was the only way I could react to such an overwhelming sensation, really.

Finally, my bus arrived and I was off to Swansea – my new home for the next 5 months. In my next blog-post, I’ll be reminiscing about my bus voyage from London to Swansea, along with everything that happened once I finally stepped foot into my new ‘flat’. Spoiler-alert: it was raining, hard.

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