Home(s)

In the past 8 years I have moved house 8 times. And please excuse the images you are about to see, as they are of absolutely no interest to you.

 My student hall at Uni in Lancaster. Epic. Parties.

First student house off-campus, which I shared with 3 boys. That was... challenging. 

Second student house off-campus, which I co-inhabited with two beautiful ladies whom I love very much. This was also known as the Foreign Birds' House, as we were all from different parts of the world. Actually, sometimes it resembled more of a zoo.

London shoe box flat. 

Back in Portugal, first flat in Lisbon. As you can see, it is the ugliest fucking building, but this flat had something I loved to bits: I could hear the ships honk their horns, as the river and the port were so close. That's one powerful sound I've loved ever since!

Second Lisbon flat. Another two words: loud neighbours.

This is the street where I live and where I once stuck my bycicle wheel in the tram track. Yes, I fell off my bike and made an ouchie. All before 8 am!



Every now and again I go on Google Maps and use the street view function to see the homes where I've lived. I've tried to feel at home in all these places, and each of them represents a new start in my life. I was a different person in each of these places, and looking at them reminds me of how I used to be at these different times. Sounds tacky, I know, but hey, it ain't easy bein' cheesy. Plus, since I will be doing some more of this moving business in the future, seems like a good idea to look back and remind myself that I've done this many times before,  therefore I can do it all over again.