It's exiting and perhaps adventures Day one: First time flying, first time in England, first time alone. A lot of firsts on one day. The best word to describe this all? Awkward. One hundred percent awkward. Coming out of your comfort zone and being literally dropped in a new environment is not to be called scary. It's exiting and perhaps adventures. So let me tell you about all this. The best moment to start; saying our goodbyes to our family and entering our airplane. Before you get on you'll have to show your ID to every person they can think of to make sure that you are you. I'm always wondering if someone will finally find out that I'm not Estelle Bouter but some kind of fugitive. Joking. You do get stared at like if you're carrying a bomb and about to kill every inhabitant of Amsterdam. Which is my plan actually. So when you finally passed every security level and you walked almost 5 km you can finally go to the shops. Yes! Tax free shopping! Now I can finally buy lots of stuff for a normal price! Well you'll get cheated on. The prices are just as high as in any other shop in your country. That was a bummer. After the huge shop disappointment we could finally enter our airplane. It was small and I wondered how people with claustrophobia'll ever survive it. The view from the airplane, when you're in the air and you feel like you are so big comparing to the small world, is truly moving though. You realize that you are so so so small which is quite disturbing and frighting. It was approximately an one hour flight. Why do the stewardesses even bother trying to sell some food and coffee. We won't starf during that one hour of our life... When we landed we were finally released from our small seats and we could finally wait (again waiting..yay) for our transfer. To get in an English car is really tempting and tricky. Their wheel is on the other side so we, of course, managed to make a fool of ourselves while trying to get in the car on the right side. English drivers. Oh god english drivers are frighting. Every second that you are in their car you'll think that you're going to die. Seriously. The host family welcomed us in a slightly British way; detached. Don't get me wrong; they were quite friendly and they offered to take us on a ride to see Bournemouth. Which we gladly attended, which was also a mistake because for the second time that day I thought I was going to die. I have to say that I've never feared my life so much before. Every car ride is better called a death ride. No surprise that you hear almost every second a sirene go off. We unpacked and went on a short walk with Marijke, the youngest daughter of the family, to see the shops that were around the corner. After that we went on our own walk to the town center. We went to the pier and walked across the gardens. Our feet started to hurt so we went back 'home' for dinner. Dinner consisted of corn. A lovely way to get each-other to know because eating corn is not only hard but also tricky; before you realize you're almost drowning your neighbor in corn-juice by taking a bite. We closed it off with a sweet treat: donuts! Before we went to bed we played card games with Marijke. She knew lots of games to play and they were fun and time-killing. We were devastated so we went to bed and slept tightly.
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