All the places from our memory

Such an awful title and unrealistic, but it is what it has to be, is the trace of those days.

Our stay in Studland was coming to an end while we still didn´t know where our final home would be. We couldn´t keep living there and had to move to a hostel in Bournemouth. Our clothes were packed into small bin bags. From one place to the other as packages without destiny or origin. It doesn´t matter how many metaphors I use, that sensation… it could have been something bad, but it wasn´t.

I shared my room with Lenka and Flavia. I did so long walks at the beach and basically, we kept waiting. But it was another type of wait. We received our suitcases and it was quite difficult to move around the bedroom with all our things. We were having notices about a house we may have gone to: big, cozy, with a garden,… and the previous day we were supposed to move, we went down again. The property must have some paper sheets that would take long to be ready (and, moving forward in time, never did).

Our coordinator found us a new house in less than an hour. We would never share a house all together again. And this may sound so dramatic as I have written it and I suppose that some may be thinking of the positive aspects of not sharing a house, but we were about to lose many other experiences. I don´t mind if you don´t understand because I already feel I´m not able to transcribe it. It´s because of this why I´m sometimes not quite sure if I should be writing this memory game but at the same time I´m confirming my need to finally getting it complete.

We said goodbye to Flavia. I went with her to the bus. There is something at the stations that I´m not able to transmit neither but you probably know what I´m talking about.