My sophmore year I studied abroad in Swansea, Wales. I loved Swansea and I certainly understand why Dylan called it the grave yard of ambition. It is because once one is there, one is content to stay there. Other things are no longer as important. I have been back in illinois for more than a year now, and I miss Swansea. Sometimes at night I dream about walking in the city centre and picking up vegtables at the market. I feel homesick for it. I was only there for ten months, but I feel that the impression I was left with was greater than that. I miss the bus station and taking the train to London and going to pubs on the mumbles mile. I miss my seminars on British Literature and easy location of the library on Campus and the lilting of the welsh accent. I miss Nestle's Double Creme bars.
Yesterday I was at my boyfriends house and he turned on Classic FM. I used to listen to Classic FM quite a bit while I was in Wales, and that evoked many memories for me. I want to go back to Britian, but I know that I will not, at least not for a while.
I do not want to leave my boyfriend to go get a post-graduate degree there, assumming I could get in. Even if I did get into the school I like, I doubt I could afford to attend. And I would miss the freedom of having my car. And the cost of living is higher, and getting to be a resident wouldn't be easy. But I do miss the place.
When I was six years old I had a mug that I absolutley adored. It was a creme coloured with a red rose painted on it and a small chip in the brim of the cup. One day I dropped the mug and it shattered. I still miss that mug too. I feel like my experience in Swansea was like that mug- its done and over with, but the pull still remains.