52 Weeks of Gratitude · Travel

Week 6: The city you live in

How time flies! Already we are six weeks into the 52-week gratitude challenge. I’m enjoying myself immensely.

A few days ago, I made this blog rather more public by posting a link to it all over my social media. I’m still pretty hesitant to advertise exactly where I live, however, so I shall try to write about my city without making it immediately identifiable.

I came here for university: it’s basically pot luck that I ended up in this little city. Medicine is notoriously hard to get into; I ended up picking my universities based on their admissions criteria and the likelihood I’ll get into that place. As a result, the first time I visited this place was the day I had my medical school interview. I’m not sure how university applications work elsewhere around the world, but in the UK most people have a look at the course, talk to students and faculty members, wander around the university campus and maybe see the city in open days before they apply to the universities they like the best. Safe to say that had I applied to anything but Medicine, I probably won’t have considered this city. (Kidding, I love this city!)

Quite recently, the city’s football team unexpectedly won the league they were in. Honestly, I’ve never seen a city come together like it did that night. I live maybe one or two miles from the football ground and I heard the celebrations from my bedroom. Cars and pedestrians poured into the town centre and towards the ground to celebrate. The roads were gridlocked at 11pm (it was pretty absurd to see), flags streamed everywhere, cars beeped their horns at everyone they passed. The atmosphere for about a week was so electric. I’ve moved around a fair bit in my life but, my, I’ve never been so exhilarated to be part of a city.

Also, we have a pretty good rugby team.

Like a typical student, I move between my accommodation and my parents’ house during the course of the year. I’m not sure about anyone else, but when I talk sometimes I refer to multiple places as “home”. It gets pretty confusing.

The longer I’ve spent in this city, however, the more I think of it as “home”. Friends, church family, my boyfriend (born-and-bred here), the sheer amount of time I’ve spent in this area all contribute to this feeling of “home”. That, I think, is always something to be grateful for.


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