SOMEWHERE ELSE

So it goes like that – I grew up in Lithuania while travelling here and there for a bit. Seeing all those places my geography teacher were talking about. It was always great, no accidents, no missed planes, only the dream to travel and see places.

At the same day I handed in my last exam paper in high-school I was sitting in the place to Iceland. I have found a job in one of the most amazing places on earth and I went. Young and hungry for adventure I started my first proper job in the Glacier Lagoon. Living in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of strangers for 4 months. This one started the whole shabang that I’m about to explain.

 

So after shitty job in the most beutiful location in Iceland, I went on to study in Leicester. (Don’t ask me why there) The first year of studies went by and as I got myself feeling at home I started travelling, and used the opportunity to catch cheap flights from London. During 9 months I’ve visited a bunch of new countries and backpacked Marocco, Italy and France.

 

 

The time studying was so fast that I was soon to move back to Iceland. I spent another 4 months there working my ass off and earning money that I will be surviving on while studying. Moving back to Leicester was hard, since I have been living with storms and rain every day for the whole summer, going back to English weather was a good depression starter for sure. The second year at Uni was going great but then I decided to leave again. I packed my bag after the first semester and moved to Amsterdam for an Erasmus exchange. I have changed my home once again as well as the university. It was filled with people wanting to party and get to know each other and in the meantime I was trying to understand where is my home. I didn’t maned to do that, but I made a couple of good friends and lived in possibly the best city in the world. Oh I forgot to tell you that I fell in love as well! And then… i had to pack my bags an move again.

 

So broken heart and I’m of to Iceland again. This is my third ‘fake’ summer. I have managed to find a way better job in the East Fjords working in a proper kitchen with the most amazing group of people. Living these 4 months in the house that’s facing the sea. Walking in the empty beach and getting chased by angry birds. Experiencing real Icelanding slow life while still working 13-hour shifts. Somehow I made it alive and learned more than I was expecting. It’s 2018 September by now and I am used to my huge backpack and wrapping my broken luggage in plastic. I’m used to waking up way to early for the flights, and getting all soaked in sweat after dragging my stuff to the check-in desk. I’m used to giving my stuff away because they don’t fit in my bags. I’m moving back to England baby.

Last year in my BA started great, lots of cool tasks and assignments that started generating new business ideas for the future and really got me thinking what should I do next. Besides the crazy university schedule, I managed to get a job in one of the greatest kitchens in Leicester. I was studying in the morning and working in the evenings. Trying not to mind the grey weather and demotivating people around me that keep on bragging how busy they are. I have somehow pushed through 6 months of studying. And guess what? It was time to move again! haha if only I was kidding. So I packed up my bag and went to live in London for a month. Yap. It was in the middle of my grad year. So I completely ignored a month of uni and didn’t even start my dissertation, but I am unpacking in my new home in London. I have also got an internship in the Universal Music, Decca Records where I was working with the coolest musicians and professionals. So the month past pretty quick as London has a tendency to suck your time. Sleeping 4 hours each night for a month certainly didn’t do me much good, keeping in mind my empty pages of the dissertation that is due in a month.

 

I pack my bags and move back to Leicester to grab the uni by the balls. By some miracle I finish all the paperwork on time and I graduate with a First degree honours in Arts and Festival management or as named by me ‘BA in how the hell did I managed all of this’.

 

So since this chapter is over, and thinking about working 230 hours a month in cold ass Iceland gives me shivers, I decided to head back home and chill. So I pack my ‘home’ and leave. I am now living at my mom’s place in Lithuania with my stuff still in the boxes, because these past 3 months went so freaking fast with house maintenance, construction and part-time job that I decided to get because I obviously can’t just chill.

It’s now September and In a week I am leaving to Rotterdam with Erasmus Entrepreneurship program. I don’t know how to explain the feeling I have for moving again. When travellers say their home is where their heart is, I will never understand that. I think that travellers are over exaturating it because they have home where they go back every now ant then to repack their stuff, leave what they dont need for next 3 months and lay in their own bed. I think that moving home should not be compared with travelling, because I do not travel, I live just in more places than usual for 22 year old. I absolutely hate the feeling of not having proper home, and endless packing. I hate thinking if i can buy the shoes I really like because they might not fit in my bags, getting the parfume thats less than 100 ml otherwise it will be taken away from me at the airport. And most of all I hate it because it becomes almost imposible to be with someone and get into a serious relationship. Living this planned and at the same time sponatious life is not easy but its also what I somehow not able to avoid so far. When I find a cure for moving home ill let you know. But besides all the bad stuff, I love the opportunities I have to learn and experience everything I ever wanted to. I have been so lucky with all the work and travel opportunities that I hustled for years, and one day when it will stop im sure im gonna miss it all and leave once again.

But for now its just another packing in few weeks and another room to call it home.

Thank you for reading Those Silly Stories.

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