A homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was: hiraeth. As a child I was homesick a lot, really a lot. I didn’t want to stay over at a friend. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed in my parents house. If I was spending a night at a friends home I sometimes cried at night. I just wanted to go home. Home sweet home. Nowadays it’s different. I love to travel. And every hotelroom is my home for the time being. But for me home is where my husband Marcel is. I could live everywhere. It’s just a house. It’s the one man I share this house with.
Nowadays when I travel I cry when I have to go home. It’s saying goodbye to my temporary home. It’s saying goodbye to all the things I saw and felt. And the people I met.
This photo I made on my honeymoon. We went to Andalucia. I don’t know if I will ever be there again. I would love to return to Granada, Cordoba and Sevilla. These cities are beautiful with all their history.
And Portugal, Sintra. And the whole area around it. 
And Greece and Italy with Venice and Sicily. 
All these photos make me homesick and make me long for a time and home I can’t return to. It’s all a memory. But all these photos also make me feel how lucky I am that I had these moments in my life. That I visited these places. Because I realise that there a people who can’t afford it to travel. I am such a lucky girl.
Do you want to know how Vicky interprets this theme? You can find her post here.