Ready, Get Set, Fly!

The idea of living in another country is exciting. And terrifying.

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

I never thought I was one to go on an academic exchange. The travel bug has tread outside my bedroom door, but never before has it crawled over the threshold to sneak into my bed and bite me. I saw the opportunity of a lifetime, and some impulsive force compelled me to seize it, clutch it to my heart with both hands, and not let go.

Completing paperwork and hunting down documents was not how I planned spending my free time in the summer, nor making difficult phone calls with insurance companies and banks. People idealise the process, envy that you’re going abroad and they’re staying behind. Little do they know the stress of it all.

In September, I will be flying to Nice, France. It will be my first flight alone; although I am a seasoned traveller, I am still nervous.

In my lifelong dream of going to France, I’ve always thought of Paris, the City of Lights. I hear it is a beautiful city. The weather promises to be mild, for Nice is on the coast of the Mediterranean sea; I may come to miss the Canadian winters I have grown up with, but I will never miss shovelling snow. It will be my home for the next nine months.

I leave tomorrow. I can hardly believe it.

My heart quivers whenever I think of my approaching flight, as though moths have taken residence beneath my skin, gnawing at me like I am made of cotton. These past nights have brought me poor sleep; troubled dreams of flying and getting lost haunt me, ghosts that do not trouble me as much during my waking moments. My bags are packed, but a nagging voice at the back of my mind whispers that I’ve forgotten something critical, sowing seeds of doubt that I do not need.

Likely as not, I will not believe that I am actually going to be spending the year in France until I wake up in the morning in my apartment, breathing in the sea air.