There are only two days of May left, which feels like utter madness to me. It seems like mere moments since I was having a great whinge about this being the longest term, and how there were weeks and weeks left before the wonder of summer holidays. Those halcyon days that make all teachers feel like their students when the bell rings on the last day of term. That day is flying towards me, and I don't know how I am supposed to do everything that I should in the next 4 weeks. One whole week is in Strasbourg and Freiburg anyway on a school trip, so that should really be 3 weeks. I can feel my pulse racing as a type.

I thought that all I was thinking about was work, that I was so ingrained in my routine that I had no time for Budapest as a city left, that nothing could happen outside of pure survival of these last weeks at school. But as I slowly get organised packing, looking at the things in my apartment, I find that a nostalgia creeps over me that I simply did not expect and was certainly not ready for. I've here for three years, and God knows it took me long enough, but I really do like it now. I especially love my Jewish district, I walked to the shop this morning, past the little stalls that spring up on a Saturday in Klauzal Ter, and a sadness washed over me. Life will be so different next year, Eastern Europe has been my home for over half a decade, what will it be like to be English in Engalnd next year. It all just sounds so normal.