Spirit Atlas: August 2016

I did it the wrong way again - I bought plane tickets first, and planned the trip second. Or was it the right way all along? As I was faced with a frightening prospective of doing nothing and living nowhere in England for two whole weeks, I've started filling the days quite randomly and chaotically by writing to friends, booking random hostels, figuring out who can host me where, trying to fit together what seemed to be unfittable; a day before my deparure I've booked return tickets to Oxford too - solely cause I felt a bit adventurous, and that usually passes within an hour or so.

And so it went - I was feeling adventurous one day and really under the weather the other one; the days were rainy now and sunny in a moment; I was waking up at midday one day and at 5 in the morning - the next one. I did some studying (there is a summer medical school in Manchester that I really wanted to attend, and that I did attend in the end) and I did some sightseeing, as well as I did some wondering around and listening to music, and watching Olympic Games on giant outside screens in the City of London. I took four buses, couple of trains, found my way around in Manchester in the middle of the night, made a habit out of "I can totally walk the distance" when in London - and being terribly late ever so often. And I moved and changed and ran and then I was at the airport and the direct plane back to Belarus was ready for boarding.
That's how it goes.

When on the board at last I fell asleep, and in my sleep I was walking Manchester streets in the northern quarters, and going up the English hills in a car, and standing on the Millenium bridge (Tate Modern that it leads to always brings me in a state of deep awe), and sitting on the stairs on the Trafalgar square. The voices of thousands, and moist air, and scents of millions of take away coffees were washing over me; I felt at ease and very acutely alive. It has been 4 years since I've last made a big UK trip, and it has been 4 years since I've last been in London, and there I was, and nothing changed - I was so deeply in love with it it was both reassuring and heartbreaking.

Then I woke up, reassured and heartbroken and very, very much full of hope.

Manchester - bricks, beers, German techno, university buildings

Kita who did make it to UK IN THE END <3

Around midnight next to my hostel; amazing place it was! The highlight of the evening was people trying to persuade me to go to some imfamous "Soup Kitchen", offering me some generic drugs, talking with me about Hurts and catcalling me on the streets.