I began travelling full-time when I was 6 years old. Obviously not by myself, otherwise this blog would be way cooler and my parents would either be dead or champions in neglectfulness and douchebaggery. Together with my older brother and madre, we set off from London and headed with hopes of glory to Greece.
Greece is a long story for another day, but it’s safe to say it included a lot of drama, feta, sunburn and malakies. Which is Greek for ‘bullshit’. You feel so intelligent now you can’t stop reading at this point, don’t you? Yeah, you do. You genius you ^_^
Somehow from having modestly awesome dreams for the Meditteranean, we ended up going to the following countries. All of them have not been lived in, yet all of them have been visited and considered: England, Scotland, Greece, Italy, France, Spain, Austria, Switzerland, Portugal, Tunisia, Bulgaria, Romania, Canada, U.S.A., Panama and Guadeloupe (where we are currently). Right now you’re asking yourself “Where are her marbles?” but I’m sure you’re feeling acceptably inadequate right now, right? No? Moving on.
Out of the countries listed, we have lived in England (6 years + another year when I was 12), Scotland (a total of about 2 years on three separate occasions, because it takes me that long to think maybefuckingnot), Greece (10 years, my longest time anywhere which ended with an abrupt welcome in 2012.