I sit looking wistfully out of the window, homesick. It makes me wonder. All that time spent looking out the window of my bedroom at home, dreaming of the fantastic life I would have when I went travelling, of all the things I would do and see and now I find myself on the other side of the world, doing the exact same thing. It’s not like I’m not enjoying it, I am. It’s more that the grass is always greener I think. I love that my freckles have faded a bit in the gloomy English sun but I still find myself dreaming of being on the beach. Tomorrow, a new flat for a week and then Scotland. Will the grass be greener there do you think?