Bath Tubs and Long Goodbyes
I couldn't sleep a wink last night. Got up finally at 7.30am, and realized this was it. My room, bared and cleaned-out, looked uninhabited already. It used to have 'me' written all over it, but now everything was thrown into two luggages and a large duffel bag. I expected to be really sad or overwhelmed, but perhaps it was the lack of sleep - I didn't feel much, really. I just knew I had to leave, and it was coming, and... well, I was going and that was that.
Isa and Mon kindly dragged their butts out of bed (having slept only 2 hours and an hour respectively) to help me with my luggage and see me off, and it was nice having them there. Wouldn't know what to do without the both of you. :) It was only when the bus pulled out of the bus station, and as the Bathstone buildings on Manvers Street sped past the window, that I realized I really probably won't see this place again for the rest of my life. And it felt sad.
I thought about the exchange students - all the people I was thankful to have met. Our little lives there in Bath was so peaceful and idyllic. The pace of life was slow and easy, and it is hard to have it any other way living in a place where there were no tall buildings at all - none more than three or four storeys in height, I believe. Filled with trees, rolling green meadows, and picturesque cottages, how could I not feel heartbroken as I left Bath?
We got to the edge of Bath itself, and hit the A4 motorway. I turned around and saw the city, like a jewel in a palm, perched on the bowl-like nestle between two hills. The weather was gloomy, but I knew how beautiful it looked under the sunlight from my many bus rides to and from London.
As Bath steadily disappeared from behind us, I had to fight back tears.
Bath was not just a pretty town in my mind; it held a lot more to it than that. In these four months, it was my home-ground. Even though I travelled extensively and hardly visited school even, it was still a wonderful place to return to; a safe place. It was in Bath that I experienced all the trials and tribulations of exchange. Where I learnt about the myth of Bladud and the acorns, and watched Shirley Valentine and The Full Monty as part of an exam. Where I got used to cooking and nightly poker tournaments in my kitchen. Where I devoured the entire first two seasons of Scrubs, and came out thinking I understood myself and my friends and life a little bit better. Where the wind almost gusto-ed our feeble foldable umbrellas away. Where love and friendship were the things that kept me going, and sometimes, the things that made me break down.
But as all good things, it came to an end. And I have to accept it, don't I.
Isa and Mon kindly dragged their butts out of bed (having slept only 2 hours and an hour respectively) to help me with my luggage and see me off, and it was nice having them there. Wouldn't know what to do without the both of you. :) It was only when the bus pulled out of the bus station, and as the Bathstone buildings on Manvers Street sped past the window, that I realized I really probably won't see this place again for the rest of my life. And it felt sad.
I thought about the exchange students - all the people I was thankful to have met. Our little lives there in Bath was so peaceful and idyllic. The pace of life was slow and easy, and it is hard to have it any other way living in a place where there were no tall buildings at all - none more than three or four storeys in height, I believe. Filled with trees, rolling green meadows, and picturesque cottages, how could I not feel heartbroken as I left Bath?
We got to the edge of Bath itself, and hit the A4 motorway. I turned around and saw the city, like a jewel in a palm, perched on the bowl-like nestle between two hills. The weather was gloomy, but I knew how beautiful it looked under the sunlight from my many bus rides to and from London.
As Bath steadily disappeared from behind us, I had to fight back tears.
Bath was not just a pretty town in my mind; it held a lot more to it than that. In these four months, it was my home-ground. Even though I travelled extensively and hardly visited school even, it was still a wonderful place to return to; a safe place. It was in Bath that I experienced all the trials and tribulations of exchange. Where I learnt about the myth of Bladud and the acorns, and watched Shirley Valentine and The Full Monty as part of an exam. Where I got used to cooking and nightly poker tournaments in my kitchen. Where I devoured the entire first two seasons of Scrubs, and came out thinking I understood myself and my friends and life a little bit better. Where the wind almost gusto-ed our feeble foldable umbrellas away. Where love and friendship were the things that kept me going, and sometimes, the things that made me break down.
But as all good things, it came to an end. And I have to accept it, don't I.
posted by the zee at 7:59 AM
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