Latest news with #homesickness
Daily Mail
06-07-2025
- Daily Mail
We're a Scottish couple living in Spain... here are the REAL reasons people move back to the UK
A Scottish couple living in Spain has revealed the real reasons people head back to the UK. Barry and Karen Livingstone moved to the sunny shores of Torrevieja in 2020 'after years of dreaming about it'. Following in the footsteps of thousands of Brits, the pair have adapted well to the more laid back Iberian lifestyle and insist it is the 'best move we have ever made'. But now, taking to their popular YouTube channel Scottish Couple In Spain, the Scots have delved into their experience of people heading the opposite way to them and shed light on the main issues that drive them back. Walking their beloved springer spaniel across the Santa Pola promenade, just half an hour drive up the coast from their new home, Barry and Karen started off by insisting there were a variety of reasons Brits realise paradise is not for them. A key factor, though, is money. Often those who head there are dealt the brutal truth that the Spanish dream is not financially sustainable. Karen pointed out that homesickness also plays a part, with many missing their friends and family while out there. Barry admitted that family often piled on some added 'pressure' when it comes to decision-making, especially if a spouse dies. But now, taking to their popular YouTube channel Scottish Couple In Spain, the Scots have delved into their experience of people heading the opposite way to them This has hit particularly close to home for the Scottish couple, who have gone to four funerals since their move five years ago. 'I think some people can find it quite isolating if they've lost a partner,' Karen added. 'That's quite a common one, particularly as there is an older generation of Brits who have been out here for a number of years. It's starting to affect a lot more people now. A large portion of expats in Spain have been there for more than two decades, Barry observed, and many are left unsure whether they want to die and be buried away from home. He claimed that while some of the people heading back to the UK were of working age, most were pensioners. And of the members of their slightly younger age group who moved out with them during Covid, Barry calculated that around half had already gone home. The move also sometimes falls through when health issues emerge and Brits feel uncomfortable with the quality of Spanish hospitals, particularly with the added inconvenience of a language barrier. She said: 'We know many people who have gone home for health reasons because they need more healthcare in their later years and they would rather be back in the UK where things are familiar and everything is easy to understand.' Would they ever rethink things and return home? The weather, which has improved their mental health, as well as the cost of living and a less materialistic population were mentioned as the main positives of living in the country 'Safe to say "no", definitely not in the plans,' Karen said. 'I think we have planned pretty well for the future. We have got good plans in place for retirement, we're quite comfortable with the public health system here - I think it's fantastic.' She added that, in summary, there was nothing at all pushing them back to the UK. Besides, their family and friends prefer it that way, now able to stay with them in sunny Spain during holidays, they joked. The weather, which has improved their mental health, as well as the cost of living and a less materialistic population were mentioned as the main positives of living in the country. As if to prove the point, they then showed a panoramic view of Santa Pola's sandy swathes of beaches, sun-kissed even in November when they filmed the video.
Globe and Mail
29-06-2025
- Sport
- Globe and Mail
I'm new here but I'm falling in love with ‘Canadianness'
First Person is a daily personal piece submitted by readers. Have a story to tell? See our guidelines at Like millions in this country, I spent the evening of Thursday, Feb. 20, in front of the TV, captivated by the Four Nations hockey final. Packed cheek-by-jowl into a downtown Toronto pub, the unbridled pandemonium that accompanied Connor McDavid's goal, all flailing limbs and tossed beers, was one of the most joyful sporting spectacles I've been a part of. That could be the result of a success-starved sporting life as a fan of both England's national soccer team and Tottenham Hotspur (who finally broke their trophy drought in May), but it's impossible to disassociate that hockey game from a web of political issues. For me, though – a recent-ish newcomer to this country – it also represented several personal revelations about belonging, home and community. I emigrated from the U.K. nearly two years ago. I had no previous ties to this country (the closest case was my grandfather who, as a child, was nearly being evacuated here during the Blitz before having a last-minute change of heart, a wise decision considering the passenger ship was sunk by the Germans). But I've been blessed to find a network of welcoming, funny, outgoing and thoughtful individuals that has only grown. (There were also a few absolute knobheads, but such is life.) The natural cycles of adventure and homesick depression followed, but over time, my affection for the idiosyncrasies of Canadian life grew. Why 'elbows up' is Canada's rallying cry in the trade war against Trump's tariffs I spent last summer in Serbia and Central and Eastern Europe, a wonderful, thrilling and culturally enriching experience. By August, however, I was more than ready to return home – and for the first time in my life, 'home' meant somewhere different from the place I was born. And at some unidentifiable point in the past few months, when speaking to friends and family in the U.K., I made the subconscious switch from 'them' to 'we.' Truth be told, this moment for me, like the wider uptick in pride for all things Canadian, has correlated with the actions of a certain convicted felon and the expansionist fervour of our erstwhile neighbours down south. You don't need a political science degree to understand that threats to sovereignty tend to have a 'rally round the flag' effect. It has sometimes been exacerbating explaining to those outside of Canada the extent to which Donald Trump's existential threats dangle over Canadian life: how we could come to see Wayne Gretzky as a complicit traitor and no longer the Great One; why I'm boycotting American products; and that, yes, booing The Star-Spangled Banner and removing American booze from liquor-store shelves is justified and proportionate. That's not to say my feelings of 'Canadianness' are purely an anti-Trump response. But what's been happening over the past several months has crystallized sentiments that were bubbling within me and made me realize I truly do love living here – Toronto as a city and Canada as a country. I could write about all manner of knackered cultural clichés, about hockey and poutine, the fundamentally decent nature of the people and the stunning landscapes. But if they seem overused, it's because, by and large, they're true. In recent years, this country's politics and wider Canadian life have included an abundance of cynicism, and in many cases, rightfully so. A healthy dose of skepticism and desire to see things improve are natural and vital elements to social progress. Sometimes, though, it's necessary to step back and appreciate the positive aspects that define this country. Sometimes, there's no one better placed to see this fuller perspective than an outsider. Canadians are ready to fight tariffs with their dollar. Here's what they told us Sure, such sentiments on my part could be seen as disingenuous bandwagoning at best and disrespectful at worst. If the idea of Canadianness I'm falling in love with is so deep and so special, how can I really appreciate it after less than two years? To take it back to that hockey game, I could not, a mere few years ago, have envisaged reacting in such a way, singing along to O Canada horrendously out of time and tune (and yet still better than the rendition in Boston that night) and pouring my heart and soul into a sport that I'd hitherto barely acknowledged. Yet in that moment, I got no strange looks or judgment for my boisterous and obviously non-North American accented shouts. I wasn't simply a sports fan – I felt like part of a team of 40 million. You can't yet call me Canadian, not out of hesitation or lack of desire on my part, but because this process of joining a nation is a journey, one that will have setbacks and moments of unease, plus industrial bouts of bureaucratic frustration. So, for now, all I can do is profess my deep and growing affection, grounded in the values and multiplicity of perspectives of its people, and try to positively add, now and going forward, to the values that make Canada so desirable, until the day I can proudly say, 'I am Canadian.' Now, where's my Molson commercial? Thomas Law lives in Toronto.
Forbes
27-05-2025
- Health
- Forbes
3 Places Where Your ‘Fernweh' Is Likely To Go Off The Charts, By A Psychologist
'Fernweh' is a German word that has no true English equivalent, but the feeling is both universal ... More and bittersweet. Here's where you can go to feel more of it. There's a nuance between the German words fernweh and wanderlust. Wanderlust, originally German for 'a desire to hike or roam,' has taken on a more playful tone in English. It's now the kind of word you'd throw on a travel blog or an Instagram story. Fernweh, by contrast, is deeper. It's the kind of thing you reserve for your Sunday night conversations with yourself, when the world feels slightly off-kilter and your chest tightens with the feeling that you belong somewhere else, even if you don't know where. It's hard to explain fernweh without mentioning heimweh, the German word for homesickness. The two are rough opposites. So if heimweh is missing a place you know all too well, fernweh is an aching for a place you've never been. But here's the beauty of the word: It's not entirely sad. Fernweh carries a kind of bittersweet connotation, much like longing with a hint of hope. And if you want to lean into that complex emotion, here are three places you can go to feel it more deeply. There's something about sitting in a dark movie theater, eyes wide, sound all around you, that makes the world outside feel inconsequential. And for many, that's exactly when fernweh creeps in. In 2023, over 819 million movie tickets were sold in the U.S. But by 2025, that number dropped to around 697 million. But even as the numbers decline, the effects of watching a movie in a theater remain potent. A 2023 study published in Marketing Letters shows that people actually prefer the big screen experience over the home video experience. The difference is visible in the ratings they leave. The big screen gives your fernweh room to breathe. Because when you're sitting at the movies and the Glacier Express chugs through the Swiss Alps, or the camera pulls back on an old town in Morocco, you're already there. That's what good cinema does, it immerses you in another life for a few minutes. If you've ever thought of an airport as a portal to strange human behavior, you're not alone. We've all seen it: people drinking wine at 7 a.m. or doing impossible yoga poses near Gate 14. And sometimes, it gets darker. Arguments, panic attacks or even the occasional in-flight outbursts make headlines. Researchers point to sensory overload, lack of control, time distortion and even the loosening of social norms as triggers. In short: airports, by their very nature, make people behave differently. And they also make people yearn. You're surrounded by lives in transition from one 'life' to another. Even if you're not flying — and you're just seeing someone off — you can still feel it in your bones. That buzzing emotional frequency is fertile ground for fernweh to grow. Sometimes, just being near the departure board is enough. Maybe you glance at flights to Reykjavik, Seoul or Nairobi and feel something. Maybe a small part of you wonders what your life would look like if you belonged there. Or at least it wants to know what it's like to be there, even briefly. Watching your own city's skyline is an underrated way to wind down. There's something quietly reassuring about realizing the world doesn't depend on you, that what you think of as 'your life' will keep moving, with or without your participation. There's a reason we're drawn to high places — hotel balconies, hilltops or the 100th floor of a skyscraper. As psychologist Sally Augustin, PhD, puts it, being up high gives us prospect and refuge: a broad view of the world from a secure, safe place. Seen from above, the world looks both beautiful and available. And in that moment, fernweh often stirs. Because sometimes, all it takes is a bird's-eye view to wonder who else you could be, and where you'd have to go to meet that version of yourself. Do you feel deeply connected to natural spaces, even if they're far away? Take this science-backed test to find out: Connectedness To Nature Scale
