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| Photo: Canice Leung |
It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost exactly a year since I moved to Australia.
As I write this, I’m on a train chugging through the Welsh countryside, the passing rivers and farmhouses a blur against a bright green backdrop. (On one of our daily hikes, Canice used the word “bucolic” to describe the scenery—placid valleys filled with sheep, the iconic stone fences running parallel to the sea—and I’ve been rolling it around in my mouth every since. After two weeks of standing out in a sea of arthritic tourists, I’m left sincerely wondering why Wales isn’t more popular with my demographic. Sure, it’s no Ibiza—but it’s breathtaking, and really, what more do you need?) Today, I’m headed to Heathrow to start the epic journey home after nearly two months abroad.
