I have spent my year abroad working for HELLO! Magazine in Madrid, feverishly writing stories about Justin Bieber’s latest haircut and why Harry Styles cannot keep it in his pants. On top of my forty hour week, I have spent my time feverishly getting drunk, taking heed of the one euro pints available and the two euro bottles of wine. I have watched my friend get run over in a stunt show by a BMX, I have been delayed a total of 18 hours for 24 hour trip, I have cut my hand open dancing too feverishly in a gay bar to Spandau Ballet’s Gold, and I have eaten my way through approximately 100 pounds of potatoes. It’s been an interesting ride. That’s why I was surprised that my best moment in Madrid today was so bloomin’ simple.

Exploring in the Hyde Park-esque area of the city, Malasaña, I decided to escape the blazing heat and venture into a café sat on the corner of a backstreet. Buying a 1.50 latte and staying there all day, my flatmate and I sat side by side like an old married couple as we opened our books and sat with our backs out on the veranda. Completely immersing ourselves in the text in front of us, we let the heat and the atmosphere unravel its magic, becoming part of the timeless continuum that makes the capital oh so very special. Seconds, minutes and hours went by, the sun still shining, words yet to be read. Willing that the day wouldn’t end, we let the day give way to darkness, still clinging onto the letters in front of us.

As we studied our books from start to finish, our day’s activity became a metaphor for our year itself. Our time has been an intangible realm of dreams, with even the realities of the working week failing to bring us down. We may have written plenty of our days away, but there were still times like this, times where our appreciation couldn’t be quashed, even in the heat of a defiant sun. We too, have spent and endless calendar here, with so much more to do, so much more to say. But like everything in life, all good things must come to an end. The end of my chapter in Madrid has come.

What have I learnt from my year abroad? I haven’t learnt Spanish, how to take my ale, or how to use the contrast option in Photoshop. I have, however, learnt how to avoid excessive sunburn, what pictures are of waxwork models and real life celebrities, what a Victoria’s Secret Angel is and how to not get into a tizzy about staying out with my friends until seven in the morning. After reading those sentiments back, I don’t know whether I have learnt anything useful at all. Even more strangely, I’m surprisingly satisfied with that fact.

Thank you Observations. Thank you Madrid. Leeds, we will meet again.