The Adventures & Happenings of My Time in England & Beyond

Many things have happened since I first set about to write this. It was my expectation to write of all the happenings during my time abroad and in so doing, encapsulating the hopeful change of my perspective on life and on the documentation of all the perfect “storybook” moments I hoped to achieve. None of this has happened, at least not while I am writing this. These memoirs are more for me than for its readers. Not that in any way, shape, or form I wish to alienate you from these narratives, but that you may perhaps come to understand a little fuller a piece of me and that from reading this you may realize that small thing of which you believed you were the “only one” is the same for me too.


England, a simple word, but one that draws many different meanings for different people. For me, it was an exhilaration, an unbelievable dream come true. England was a place far away, a place that was unreachable, untouchable, a place that could only exist within the confines of my mind and nowhere else. I read about it in magazines, watched films and shows about it, heard the various accents and witted humour, and tasted many aspects of its cuisine, but even then I had not truly entered England. It was a painting that hung on the wall, beautiful to look at, a haven away from the “real world,” a place where one could sit and stare at it and say “one day, I will be there and everything will be perfect.” This is not true for everyone of course, for some the cold, rainy interior of the land of Britain is anything than perfect and they would much rather desert to some warm corner of the equator to lay in the sun and bathe in the sea. This is lovely too, but not for me. Ever since a child, I longed with such a hope to see this land that I only heard and dreamed of. My mother wished the same dream and so united with this, we dreamed together, only wishful thoughts that we supposed would never come to pass.

I wrote this right while I was still in England. I had planned on writing every day of my adventures and of my "change in perspective on life" that I wished to happen during my time at Bible School. I wrote it looking forward in time, expecting that, when I returned home, I would be a changed woman with new experiences and a stronger faith. Unfortunately, none of the above happened. I had many fond memories, met many extraordinary people, and loved exploring the place I had dreamt of for years. However, I did not grow stronger in my faith, I did not come home changed if anything I returned more depressed and downtrodden than I had previously been. The months that followed were those that I would rather forget and if I learnt one thing, it was that change and growth cannot be planned, it must be lived one step at a time. Change is not a pill you can take, it is a journey and it is inevitable.