How can it be 11 years since I went to
Harlow? How can so much time have passed, when I can still smell the fresh laundry in the halls of The Maltings? Remember the feeling of the brick wall beside my bed that I would run my fingers along when trying to drift off to sleep? The taste of the potato salad the chef in the cafeteria would make for every single dinner meal? The feeling of joy and excitement and devastation bubbling up inside me while standing in
Piccadilly Circus the night before I flew back to Newfoundland, trying to get as much of London into my veins as I could?
So many memories. So many sights and sounds and smells that bring me back to that place every autumn for the past 10 years.
My time in Harlow changed me, changed my life, changed the way I see life and see people. I've told people it was the best four months of my life, and while I've had other amazing experiences and been fortunate to have had them, there's nothing that has compared to my time in England.
