*: Are the black bits in bananas tarantula's eggs?

My beloved Ghent,

I have to admit I owe an apology to Ghent. Look at me all back in Estonia, running my errands and not having the time or the right words to describe my feelings, without even writing a decent love letter, for god sake! Yes, I'm lacking of will to write. Whatever I'll say, I can not put my gratitude over all these eyeopening experiences and possibilities into one blog post (yes, "eyeopening" as in "I didn't drink and have sex the whole time" like the widespread opinion seems to be). That's why I won't. I've always been terribly shitty in expressing my feelings and yes, I'll stick to that, so I'll just write something down and get it over with...

Twenty new hangers and two vacuum bags later I can finally say I have won the battle of settling in. Even though four months sound ridiculously short amount of period, I will avoid the fact and say it really felt so much more...

Did you guys know that one out of four Erasmus students hooked up with their life partner during their studies abroad and around 1 million babies are likely to have been born to Erasmus couples since 1987.

Ykes!

Yesterday, when I secretly explored the world of love letters, google kept on giving me one writing over the others. It's written by Napoleon and it's some seriously heavy stuff, so I cut some out:

“Since I left you, I have been constantly depressed. My happiness is to be near you. Incessantly I live over in my memory your caresses, your tears, your affectionate solicitude. [---]”

I was perfectly aware of the possible "feeling blue" emotions, when I started packing my 50 kilos into two and a half suitcases. Kristiina was gone, I spent my last two nights in an empty house. Even the guys weren't at home. I thought it will break me. I was ready to stare out of the train window, when heading to the airport, while listening to London Grammar songs and putting on my little sad, pathetic face. I knew that arriving to Tallinn will suck the joy out of everything. Yet... I didn't feel anything. Zero. No tears, no female emotions, no nothing.

On a hot (30 degrees) Friday, when a friend was willing to come and help me transport my luggage to the train station, we decided to have a final lunch and ended up drinking bottles of wine, while I got really tipsy. We talked about what we've seen, what we want to see and where are we heading. After we finally said goodbye and I ended up in a capsule of no freaking air (they call it the train), I almost passed out. My one suitcase (what I bought just for this time from Jyski for 30 euros) had lost a wheel, my body temperature was probably 42 and Estonian Air check-in desk was doubtlessly in the farthest freaking corner in the airport. When a guy, who so kindly helped me carry my luggage, asked me how long did I stay in Belgium, I replied: "A year!". Just to avoid the reaction of "Why the fuck to you have so many things then?".

After giving away my carry-ons, I so naively believed that the hardest part of my journey is over. Not at all.

I still had to carry my hand luggage through the security, then pass all the tax free shops, walk possibly like two to three kilometers, when I finally reached my gate (alert: first world problems!). Once again they put Estonian Air flights to the farthest point in the building. Estonians don't fly anyway, so why not, right? Oh my god! I can't remember what happened between giving away my luggage and reaching a shop to buy water, the savor of dehydration. I was between the limbo of almost dying. I seriously have a black out.

Oh, that joy when I heard fellow Estonians talking my language. They were strangers to me, yet I felt like we were besties. If it would be okay, I would've kissed them. Yet I didn't because we're Estonians and we don't do those things. No. This very moment I realized that the luxury of talking about others in loud Estonian without them understanding it was over.

I wouldn't write all this down if I didn't have a point, so...

These couple of last hours in Belgium described and summed up everything so precisely. It's like a section-long metaphor.

That last bottle of red wine refers to all the amount of alcohol we drank.

The broken 26 kilogram suitcase with one wheel describes my will to go on, through everything, even if it's almost impossible, it is always possible.

Me just about passing out in the train indicates to all the illnesses I had to fight with, which is weird because I'm almost never sick when in Estonia.

That airport journey makes me think about the total amount of new cities and countries I had the opportunity to visit. Starting with Ghent, Antwerp, Brussels, Dinant, De Haan, Ardennes, Bruges, Oostende, Luxemburg, Paris, Amsterdam and finishing up with a small city in Holland - Vlissingen.

That joy, when I finally reached my gate, makes me think about our farewell party, where I had the chance to see everybody for the last time. So sad, yet thankful for everyone and everything!

Me finally hearing Estonian makes me compare it to the craving over my home country. It is an absolute joy to be back in Estonia, yet the metaphor of me not being able to talk rubbish in loud Estonian indicates to the fact that everything has something sour to it. In this case - I miss Belgium.

Yes. Ghent gave me 102 new photos to publish on Instagram, independency, inspiration to write my blog, idea about the future, honor of meeting amazing people, the good will to sort out paper and glass from the rest, "almost love" towards the beer and finally the value and the eager of us seeing the world.

Dankjewel Ghent!

Our last cocktails at Jiggers. Kristiina said to the bartender that it's her last night in Belgium and she has been there for a year, so the guy made us some special and memorable drinks. Afterwards got our "long-craved" shots as well. Loved it!

And my last day, when I decided to go and wonder around the city for the last time all by myself.

And of course - got my last espresso frapuccino, also said goodbye to the employees. On the picture you can see one of the bruises caused by the farewell party.