Weeks of packing, moments of excitement, feelings of dread, two extremely well behaved small children on a 16 hour journey and the first feeling that came over me as we landed in our new Caribbean home was one of complete and utter sadness. This has been, without a doubt, one of the hardest things I have ever done. The moment I walked through the door of our temporary accommodation all I wanted to do was turn around and go home. Home to my eldest son. Home to my boring little town. Home to my modest 3 bed home. Home to my Mum who is my voice of reason.
We’ve been here 12 days now and it’s getting easier, but I still have daily bouts of homesickness. Video calling and friends messaging about chickens, ingrowing hairs and other such nonsense helps more than they know. The local people, caymanians and expats alike have also helped so much. Never have I been anywhere where every person you meet has a smile, a friendly greeting and help or advice to offer.
Our belongings are on the way on the container ship, we’ve found a house we love to rent and hopefully we’ll find a car of our own this weekend.* Once we have something to call our own I’m hoping to feel more settled and optimistic about our time here.
In the words of my two year old “no worry, no cry mummy, in Cayman to (with) me”.
He makes my heart melt. ♥
*posts on the trials and tribulations of each of these coming soon