Spain is going well. After an initial shaky start- disappointment that my work experience turned out to be a bit of a con/ doubt whether I could find work, I finally have more of a routine. Teaching English in an international consultancy firm (get me) 5 hours a week and practicing English with 2 adorable Spanish kids in a nearby town. I basically run around playing volleyball/hide and seek/football/tennis/go swimming with the children whilst speaking English. Yes, I'm not working terribly hard but at least I'm working and now earning some money (which makes me feel a LOT less guilty whenever I walk into Zara and inevitably end up purchasing something).
Aside from my lessons, I don't speak English here which is great, HOWEVER over the last few weeks I've spoken more French than Spanish. Which isn't a huge problem for me to be honest- after all I'm studying more French next year. My Spanish is better than when I came, so despite the initial work experience disappointment, all is not lost!
Nevertheless home is a mere two and a half weeks away and I cannot wait. Maybe it's because of the heat (at least 30 degrees every day- I haven't worn jeans/a hoody in weeks), maybe it's because I've realised I couldn't live in Spain. Little things that have started to annoy me about the Spanish- not clearing up after themselves in fast food restaurants, general loudness, rudeness whilst queuing for public transport, etc. Or maybe it's because of something else. Yes, Spain is a beautiful country with great weather, food, amazing parties and spectacular landmarks, but why couldn't I see myself living here?
Maybe because it's not France...
