… is listen to music.
It is the very first thing I do.
I could’ve just
slumped waltzed off of a two hour or 15+ hour plane journey (ignoring the +2 hours it will take me to get home from the airport), either solo or in the company of others, and before I shower or brush my teeth or even just recognise that I’m actually back home in England, my speakers are on and I am jumping about headbanging in the privacy of my room.
You see, it’s because I like my music L O U D. As loud as can be. Luckily, the Bose stereo my Mum bought me for Christmas a while back plays like a dream because at full volume, it’s like being in a damn club, and the amount of people who have asked me where I’ve bought the speakers from is crazy.
My music isn’t as loud as it could be when I’m abroad, obviously, as I refuse to bring my Bose (due to the weight of it and you know, because I will go MAD if it breaks – in fact, my eyes were wet when my Dad accidentally scratched it), so when you’ve got your iPod or phone in a basic plastic cup to try and up the volume as you’re getting ready or relaxing in the hostel or hotel room, you can imagine that the experience is nowhere near the same.
But that just means that when I return, I’ve got something to look forward to straightaway, because rather than needing to wait for good things such as seeing my friends and family/getting food delivered or cooked for me, etc. I can let my hair down and stretch out my limbs, a big fat smile plastered onto my face as I revel in something that makes me just as happy as travelling.