Scariest fact of the day EVER: Man, I spent more than a quarter of my entire life in the U.K.

Cycling twice in pouring rain, to go to work, and to come back from work, with waterproof trousers and no-longer waterproof coat.
The joys of starting my last 2 weeks with the NHS.

One thing I won't miss from the UK in general and Southampton is the constant rain.
Rain and rain and rain. And then more rain. And then? Rain again.
Little thin icy rain getting into your hands.
Heavy rain pouring like it's time to cry.
Thunder like it's rain and you just watch in silence because this is all there is to do and forget about your bike.
I won't miss the cold weather all year round with a shy tiny little sun some weeks over the summer. OH! And people driving on the middle lane! When they are NOT overtaking ANYBODY! I won't miss the silly prices of the tasteless vegetables in supermarkets, waxed apple and plastic carrots.

But these are nothing.
These are nothing at all compared to the friends I will miss. I will miss the sense of community you get when you meet a few known faces while walking into town, everytime you walk into town (somehow I am thinking about Angela). I'll miss the pride of working for the NHS, the amazing variety of vegan cheeses available for the dummies like me who decided to be vegan, I'll miss having a room big enough to dance and jump in, I will miss the enormous sense of satisfaction when swearing in English (especially in a car). I will miss the multiculturalism here, Mayflower Parc on a week-end with its people from every colour and age and every social background speaking in every language eating the same cheap ice cream watching the ships go while they stay. I will miss the waterside table tennis club.
I will miss Paola over cups of coffee for 7 years, pouring with words and book recommendations and life stories over the condensation on the windows, the curls in her hair living whatever. Living whatever. Speaking even when we are not speaking. Running together into the parks, her curly hair living whatever.
I will miss Ginny explaining every plant in her secret garden, talking to my cat like it's not her fault she's a cat, recommending impossible 10 hours long silent movies made before my parents where born from some obscure place in Japan. I will miss her special knock on the door and cut articles through the door, ses yeux espiegles toujours prets a rire. Her orange living rooms full of everything reflecting as a magic mirror just the beautiful person she is.
I will miss Tom's perfect hugs and never ending encouragements, the sound of the van door sliding open, sliding close, dinosaurs pins all over his coat, wherever.
I will miss cycling down bevois valley to my brother's, the smell of garlic and zahtar and olive oil shining under the kitchen's door like an evening sun while the night has already veiled it all out there. The sense of being taken care of, eating vegetables I would never ever have cooked for myself. The cat's big dark eyes in the middle of his thick beautiful ginger coat looking at us both, brother and sister. Locking the back gate while asking the cat to stay in, cutting my finger every single time I push the lock in.
I will miss knowing my way around in a car.
I will remember every patients I have visited over the jobs, their old wall papers and their wooden smells, the way their beds are made, what they are dying of or went away with, what colour their skins were, a grain of sand for each of them.