There are no words that could describe my state of grace with this new home country that embraced me so warmly. Too much has happened in these last 5 months without words being published here, too much to even consider grabbing onto all of that just so I could capture a fraction in writing. So I won’t. This is probably one of the most disarticulate posts I’ve written on my personal blog, but it is here to remind me that I actually “Did It”. I absolutely kicked myself in the balls and slapped myself in the face: abandoned absolutely everything in Portugal, my comfort zone, brought my family with me, started from scratch. The amount of cojones involved in pulling this stunt is usually only realised by me very rarely, and when I do, I’m nothing short of flabbergasted. There are times when I’m somewhere, at a train station, on some street, on some pub, running in the park, and it suddenly hits me, for a few seconds: I’m actually living what many people I know dreamt of doing, thought of doing, but got on with their normal lives instead. At 34 years old, married and father of two, I actually did 5 months ago what I wouldn’t even dream of doing not even a year ago. I proved myself it was possible, and so liked the taste of it… Everything feels like this new beginning, like starting a new amazing book. Like a new dawn.