The Comfort of Settling

As an international student there is a big chance that you like travelling, as do I. Airports are one of my favorite places, I love getting on that plane, closing my eyes as the plane gets faster and faster as it reaches up for the sky. I love that “first look” to a city, getting lost in those small streets, finding cute cafes, talking to locals, meeting new people…

But there is a certain comfort that comes with settling down, that I have felt strongly during this past week and a longing for it the week before.

Am I crazy? No. Do I hate travelling? Definitely no. But depending on the length and content of your travels it is possible to long for the day that you go back home. The day you will no longer be living out of a suitcase, the day that you can finally sit down knowing that you don’t have to leave soon for another flight, yet another destination.

This summer I first went back home to Istanbul for a short while to see family and friends.

Then I went back (home) to The Hague, because I had to move-out and then move-in to a new (&awesome!) house.

Following this, I went to Spain. I spent a delightful month in Valencia and was ready to leave for two weeks in Barcelona when the time came.

My longing for going home started after this, when I arrived in The Netherlands.

(My plan was to stay in Holland until university starts, but very last minute, we had arranged tickets for me to go back to Turkey and join a big family reunion (+trip).

My flight was delayed and so was my suitcase. It took an hour for me to lose hope in my suitcase’s arrival and to file a report at the office. After this I had a mental breakdown at the airport. Normally I would have been calmer about a lost suitcase but this time it was different…

I froze when the lady at the office asked: “Where should we send the suitcase when it’s found?”

That night, I was staying in The Hague.

The following day, I had a flight to Istanbul.

The following day, I was going to Ankara by car.

The following day, I was going to Cappadocia by car for three days.

Then, I was in Ankara for another day.

The day after I would finally return home to Istanbul.

Few more days and I would be flying right back to Schiphol and be standing exactly where I was at that moment.

So what was I supposed to tell this lady? I did not have the slightest idea.

And that feeling of being like a nomad didn’t feel as nice this time.

Luckily I had stayed at the airport to charge my phone, calm down and plan what to do next when I got a message from my parents, letting me know that someone had called! It was found! Someone had taken it by mistake and now he was on his way back to the airport! It was all fine again.

The following day I flew to Istanbul and spent most of the next five days in a car, on the road. When we arrived back in Istanbul one more time, I sat down knowing that I didn’t have to get up, that I could unpack this time. This was home.

Ps. During my travels I didn’t have access to a computer or internet most of the time. This means: I have SO MUCH (!) to write about!! Keep an eye on the blog, there’s more coming soon! 😉