I had a really fun post originally planned for this Travel Linkup, one that celebrated and showed off my home town. But with everything that has been happening in the world, I scrapped it (gosh I do this a lot).

I was Annoyed. Frustrated. Angry. Not really sure how I felt about the word ‘home’.

I’ve mentioned before I didn’t grow up here, I’ve moved a number of times in my lifetime and there is never just one place that feels like home.

Saudi Arabia is one, although my love for the country itself has deteriorated completely. As my eyes are opened more and more (I’ve got big eyes, it takes a bit of time) I’ve stopped defending the country for it’s ways and I can no longer relate to their obvious interest in greed – judging by the latest farce of entertaining POTUS and the issues emerging with Qatar.

BUT, despite this, it will always feel like home.

Where my parents live? Is that home? It’s in a town I lived in after moving back to the UK. My parents’ home will always be home I suppose but the town itself, it’s not really a place where I would live or have real affinity too.

So Manchester then?

Well, it’s a town I labelled as home the last time we discussed this topic, but recently I’ve begun to wonder… is this the place??? Tony Walsh sure thinks it is and I feel a huge connection here but… is it what springs to mind when I think of the word home?

I recently read Tanja’s post on what home means to her, and it was Munchkin her cat. I totally agreed. I love travelling more than anything but coming home to my cat is always an exciting part of any journey.

So could home be where the cat is for me too?

Nope.

I know exactly what it is now, it’s a bit mushy but hey, I can’t help it sometimes.
Home is definitely where all my favourite people (and animals) are.

So basically everywhere.

Literally everywhere.

Going on holiday I cannot count the number of times Mo and I have said ‘we could live here’ – and you know what we could! We could live anywhere, we’ve got homes all over the world. Homes are places where you feel happy, safe not necessarily a physical structure.

I’ve been up to my mum and dad’s a couple of times these last few weeks and everything about being in their ‘home’ makes me smile. The smell of the towels, the way they arrange their cupboards, the drawer where my dad hides his pens… everything about it is so ‘them’ and that’s why it feels like home.

The same when I’m at my sister’s, or with our friends, our neighbours…

It’s all about the people. That’s the real home.

And hey, maybe that’s why I feel the strongest, and have stayed the longest in Manchester.

As you must’ve seen and heard on the news by now, Mancs are pretty s*%$ hot amazing.

 

Three of the images above are credit to Manchester Evening News – a publication that provides brilliant coverage of all things Manchester

 

As my day job continues to test my positive outlook on life I’m glad I took a moment to define what’s really important, and with an all important election coming up I hope people remember that life isn’t all about money, bricks and mortar.

It’s about looking after the people who make up our homes, wherever they may be.

 

 

This months Travel linkup is about Home and there are some great posts! Check them out on the link up widget found on Follow Your Sunshine, SilverSpoon London, Adventures of a London Kiwi or guest host Ngaire at Kiwi Footprints.

 

What does home mean to you?

 

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Ooh, this month’s travel linkup is an interesting topic indeed. Hmm… What makes somewhere feel like home?

I consider myself an expert mover. I can pack up and shift my belongings in a day if needs be. I don’t find it stressful, I don’t find it emotional, I actually love moving because of the excitement of a new chapter, discovering a new place and it gives me an excuse to re-organise! It wasn’t until Mo and I were packing up to leave our first home back in 2011 that I realised not everyone felt the same.

Whilst I was bustling around all happy and busy being sensible, labelling boxes to load into cars, Mo was less joyous and was actually devastated to leave. It was the first home we had lived in together and we had had many good times there. So whilst I was busy looking into the future, Mo was taking time out to reminisce about the past. I remember worrying that maybe I was cold on the inside? Maybe I had a heart of stone? As I was seriously struggling to find some remorse about leaving.

But the real reason was quite simply because ‘home’ means something totally different to me.

Up until that point Mo had moved house less than a handful of times. I however, well, I’ve lived in 2 countries, 4 cities and moved house maybe 20 times in my life so far. Every single one of the places I have stayed in I still call them all ‘home.’ When I go back to my parents house, they will also always be known as ‘home.’ And then to add to the confusion, near enough every place we have visited on holiday Mo and I always find ourselves falling in love with some element of the trip resulting in us calling our current destination ‘home.’

Growing up abroad has helped me adapt and adjust to life just about anywhere. My habits change, my accent drastically changes (!) and when your facebook is a frenzy of people in all sorts of far-out fantastic destinations, I never worry about feeling alone. Home, to me, is anywhere you feel comfortable, which in my world is dictated by people. That comfort of a friendly face, even if it’s a stranger smiling at me in the street, I get that same ‘home’ feeling. Whenever I’m with Mo, my family, my friends, my cat… just being around them feels like I’m in the right place.

However.

After saying all that, in recent years my thoughts have started to change direction ever so slightly…

Although I still don’t think of the house I live in as my permanent address, I’m still not attached to it and I could, as I’ve done many a time, quite simply up and leave tomorrow if needs be. I still believe ‘home’ is about the people I surround myself with, whether I know them or not. I have however, found a City that my heart genuinely feels love and attachment too.

MANCHESTER.

 

I’m now in my sixth year living in this Northern Powerhouse and as much as I love travel and can picture myself discovering the world. I feel the animal definition of home is the way I feel about Manchester – ‘a territory where I would return by instinct after having left.’

Just today, Mo and I took a stroll through the city; the diversity and atmosphere around us was instantly up lifting. It’s a city that shares my passions, my interests and I still have so much to learn and discover.

Maybe it’s my age, my priorities, or maybe its the fact that Manchester is such an amazing location for travel. I can’t quite put my finger on exactly what it is, but there’s just something about this great, GREAT city that makes me want to call it my forever home.

 

 

Home.

Have you visited anywhere and it’s sparked off such a strong feeling in you that considered moving there? Are you an expat, when and why did your new city start to feel like home? Have you ever moved somewhere completely new on a whim? What makes somewhere feel like home? People, places, food?

How to link up your post

 

Just pop your post up over the first week of the month (the 1st – 7th July 2016) and add it to the link up widget found on Angie‘s, Jessi‘s, Mine or Polly’s blogs.

No real rules – just check out some of the other cool bloggers; tweet a few of the posts out to your followers that you think they will love and make a few comments here and there.
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