Fight or Flight

Fight or FLIGHT

I have successfully arrived. In Germany. For a year. By myself. Is it too late to go back now??

On Monday August 27th, I channelled my inner  #INDEPENDENTGAL vibes, and set off on my journey to Germany. As I headed through the airport I tried to look like I was totally fine, that I even enjoyed travelling alone, and most importantly I remembered what my headmistress had always said to us young ladies, “chin up, shoulders down, and bum out” … actually, maybe that’s not EXACTLY what our headmistress told us to do… Nevertheless, despite this, I made it on AND off the plane without a single tear being shed, so despite a few strange looks as I assertively (with my new independent gal head on) barged past waves of beige oldies off on their holibobs, I would recommend this technique to a friend.

Ok so I have told a slight lie about the lack of tears thing, BUT the other tear only fell when Mama Mia ‘Slipping Through My Fingers’ came on shuffle. Which of course is totally normal, and only natural to cry your eyes out to.

Mma mia photo 1
Accurate depiction of mum and I at the airport (definitely nearly broke into song)

After getting my shit (back) together and making a mental note to only listen to Little Mix ‘Salute’ for the rest of my 9 months in Germany, I landed in Düsseldorf. From here, some of our lovely family friends, who still live there from when I used to as a child, very kindly agreed to drive me to Köln, where I would get another bus to my training course. Complex I know.

In case you are a bit confusion, here’s a bit of clarification of my previous 6 year stint in Germany…

Yep, my family used to live in Germany, yes I was 6, no it hasn’t made moving alone at the age of 20 any easier, yes I like to think it helped my German (but any German teacher I have ever had would beg to differ).

You are now all caught up!

After many, many legs of the journey, I successfully arrived at the training course which was in a beautiful, medieval monastery (maybe I will become a German historian after all), where all new British Council teaching assistants have to go to learn about teaching, and generally what we are meant to be doing… pretty important seeing as none of us are actual teachers, and most of us chose this option for a year abroad because you get paid to work 12 hours a week. Yes please.

Altenberg pic.png
BEAUT (if haunted) Altenberg monastery where the training course was held

After 4 days of drinking, and 12-hour lesson days, we were chucked out of the course to let our new German teaching wings fly!!

(Actually, we were chucked out and wished good luck getting to wherever in Germany we might be teaching, especially if it’s on the other side of the country LOL).

It was at this point I realised the actual reason I’d enjoyed the last few days so much, and been able to successfully convince myself that this year might not be so bad (aside from the bar), was the fact I was speaking ENGLISH all the time. Can’t wait to practice my rusty German on some unsuspecting Germans. Here we go.

Waving goodbye to our fellow English buddies before setting off into the big, wide world that is Germany


Number of beers in Germany consumed: >20

Number of tears shed in Germany: <20

Number of other lovely people also teaching in my region of Germany met: >20

Minutes of sleep acquired throughout the first week in Germany: <20

Speak soon… mainly because this post is really delayed AND I want to tell you all (lol I know there are so many of you) about life BOPPING in BOPPARD, so STAY TUNED friends!



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