My husband George and I have been together for almost nine years. In that time we have lived in thirteen different houses, had about fifteen jobs between us, and done four degrees (five if you include my teacher training). Today we are moving for the third time this year and I’m not going to lie I’m over it. I am absolutely aware of how lucky I am to have had the opportunity to live in the beautiful country that is Ecuador, not once but twice, but I am desperate for some stability. More than anything I want to be able to put down roots. We have had varying degrees of luck with our Ecua-homes. The first was nice enough but tiny and in the middle of a building site. The constant banging, drilling, and dust would have been enough to drive the Dalai Lama doo-lally. The second, the magic cottage, has been just that – magic. It has been wonderful but sadly it is time to say goodbye and move into an apartment in the local area for my final three weeks in Ecuador.
Yes in three short weeks I return to England but leave my husband behind to complete the research for his PhD, and although I want to savour every minute I have left here I cannot wait for the time when he joins me and we can begin to make a life for ourselves in England. Adventure is fantastic but there is a great deal to be said for having somewhere to call home.
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