After writing about a million different beginnings to this blog post, all of which I felt were incredibly cheesy, I will start with a simple HIYA. Since my last blog post, which feels like it was a million years ago, a lot has happened. I slaved away day and night writing my dissertation (from which the hard work actually paid off, and I won an award and a little bit of money for it), I did a LOT of travelling, I graduated uni, and I got a new job and moved countries. As you do.
It hasn’t all been easy, though. Nothing ever is, really. I spent the first half of the year going back and forth between Sheffield and my hometown visiting my Nanna in hospital and care homes. Not long before my dissertation was due, she passed away, which made the prospect of finishing it even more daunting. Then, two days before my 25th birthday, and the day that we buried my Nanna’s ashes, my cat, Ozzy, passed away. In terms of these things, 2019 has been HARD. But, when I look at all the other things that 2019 has brought me, I have to be grateful.
After visiting friends in Budapest, once in May, and once in June, I fell in love with the city. The trippy ruin bars, stunning architecture, rich history, and abundance of things to see and do (all at such reasonable prices) were just a few things I loved about the quirky Hungarian capital. This, combined with the fact that I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do or where I wanted to live after uni finished, were just a couple of deciding factors in my applying to be a freelance travel journalist for Culture Trip.
Based in Budapest, the job involves writing about the best aspects of the city and Hungarian culture from an “insider perspective” angle, and interviewing important figures from the culinary, nightlife and cultural scenes to feature throughout my articles. I knew it sounded like something that’s right up my street, so off I went at the end of July to see how I liked life in Budapest.
Fast forward a couple of months and I’m living in a central Buda apartment, just a minute walk away from the Fisherman’s Bastion and Buda Castle, with a guy who wears five-year-old Simpsons pyjamas to bed, but can actually cook rice (something which, at 25, I’m ashamed I cannot do), and our new kitten Timmy, who bites and scratches like there’s no tomorrow and shits six times a day, but gives the best cuddles. Life is, actually, quite decent right now.
I won’t be here forever, but I’ll enjoy it while I can.