Over my school’s spring break, I studied abroad in Dublin and London. While there, I was able to experience parts of Northern Ireland and Wales. In my short time there, I was able to experience food, shopping, transportation, and art.

In just a short couple of days in each city, I fell in love with their unique rhythms and the feelings I associated with them. These cities quickly became another home for me. I felt like I could easily see myself living my everyda life in them: taking the Tube to work in London or grabbing a drink in a small music-filled pub in Dublin on a Friday.

I was able to visit a park in each city, and while there, I felt like I could have spent lunch breaks in the stillness of nature, surrounded by lives in many forms. I could take my children to play in the park years down the road. I could let my dog off the leash and watch it run around freely or maybe play frisbee with it.

Dublin felt like home. The food tasted the same way a good hug makes you feel. The cobblestone streets and alleyways summoned history, and the music sprang a step in your feet.

In London, I felt like I could thrive. I spent a lunch break in the window of a small deli watching cars and people pass by and gawking at the office workers in their cubicles in the building across the street. I felt like I could spend every lunch break seated peacefully eating a Ham Hock and cheddar sandwich while reading the paper.

The bars in Dublin echo beautifully quirky melodies from banjos and fiddles while the tap of dancers’ feet beat along. You can’t forget to order a pint of Guinness while you’re there.

My favorite time to walk on the street was either early on a Sunday morning when the sunlight was first hitting the sidewalks or in the late evening when the crosswalks weren’t quite as busy. Something about the quietness could make you feel reborn suddenly.

I felt like possibilities were endless when I stepped on the Tube. I don’t think I could ever become tired of hearing “Mind the gap.” I wanted to take every route to every corner of London. Even when the cars became packed like a can of sardines after the shows in Leicester Square finished, I loved every bit of the hustle and bustle of the foot traffic.

I feel homesick for places that I spent four days in. Why? I think I may have discovered parts of myself that I didn’t know were there, parts that can only show when I’m there. In a way, I left those parts in Dublin and London.

They were home for me. I began to get used to using the money, shopping at the grocery stores, and the lack of corporate entities. Everyone and everything felt so real, as if there was no magical façade that was disguising the bad. In fact, they openly gossiped about how much they didn’t like Americans.

Still, I loved them both in their entirety. I think when they say that home isn’t a place, but a feeling, I think they’re describing what it feels like to become completely attached to a place in a way that you want to make a corner of it your own.