I've been back to my days as a student in Trondheim, in the center of my long land. I've walked in my old footsteps as a fresh student straight from high school in a small town far north, in the "big" city, on her own, ready to start the grown up life. I've walked in snowy, frosty streets through the old parts of town where everything looks like something out of a Christmas fairy tale. I've marvelled at the amazing artwork that is the Nidaros Dome. I've sat on buses passing all the places I used to pass everyday - going to school, going for gatherings, going for parties or going home for Christmas. I have passed my former tiny homes, rooms with wild match of furnitures from different decades, cheap stuff from flea markets matched with new minimalistic stuff from IKEA, still cheap though. I've been to my old uni, I've seen old study friends. I've walked the corridors of the school, thinking with horror back on all those times we spent here, worrying and fretting over papers and exams and terrible lecturers. And I have seen, with also a bit of horror, that some of the same people are still wandering the brick laid roads inside NTNU. I'm here, hoping to come back, and settle for a while.
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