An Apology for My Awful Behaviour

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To anyone that’s had to endure my company during the three weeks that I’ve been back from South America, I am sorry. Truly, I apologise for being a shit human. But please don’t hate me, you just don’t know it feels to come home from travelling.

See, adjusting back to normal life is tricky, and I’m doing terribly at it. My personal hygiene isn’t what it used to be, whenever the temperature drops below 20°C I put my big coat on, and I walk around constantly looking sad and muttering about how much I love Colombia.

And these aren’t even the most annoying/gross things about post-South America Sophie! These are:


Booty shorts for every occasion

I don’t really understand what I’m allowed to wear in England. Can I pop on a pair of walking sandals for a meeting? Is a hole in a t-shirt an issue? How often should I wash my bras, is it once a month or not?

Last week I went to my local shopping center in a very short skirt, destroyed knock-off Reeboks and a sweat-stained t-shirt. I didn’t even consider that this might be an issue until I noticed loads of people staring at me. I’m not sure whether it was my exposed tattooed thighs jiggling all around that was causing the uproar, or whether my trainers and t-shirt are now so ripe that my fellow shoppers were noticing.

Either way, it turns out that just because it’s fine to be a bit naked and smelly while backpacking in South America, it is not ok to do the same thing in a small shopping center in the north of England.


No hablo Ingles (or Spanish)

I keep talking to you in Spanish, despite the fact that during my entire ten months in South America I was a pro-grade Spanish dodger.

My opening phrase in any conversation was “hablas ingles?”.

Cat speaking Spanish

But now I’m back in England and able to speak more Spanish than the majority of the population, I’m going to “hola” and “como estas” and “la concha de tu madre” (Google it) at every opportunity.

This will make every interaction with me slightly more tedious than it needs to be, and although I’m well aware that it’s obnoxious as fuck to make you have to Google Translate all my texts, I’m going to do it anyway so you know that I’m a proper cultured Spanish speaker now.


I ain’t interested in your currency

I convert everything into pesos, and I know you want to murder me for it.

I’m also now allergic to spending money, and I complain about the price of everything.

  • 12,000 pesos for a pint? It’s only 4,000 in Colombia.
  • 160,000 pesos for this new pair of jeans that I didn’t need? Why is life so unfair!?
  • What do you mean you’re not going to pay back the 75p that you owe me, that’d buy me an empanada where I’ve just been!

I’m currently paying £1 per week for the cheapest mobile phone plan possible, which results in a constant search for free Wi-Fi so I can do Instagram stories. I know this is annoying for companions but my 300 followers need to know about the snack I’m eating, ok?


I promise this phase will pass, so please try and bear with me while I get my shit together. Give me another month and I’ll be back to my pre-travel level of annoyingness. Probably.

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