I applied to the Erasmus programme because it was something new and exciting, an excellent opportunity and one which would, hopefully, further my career prospects. When I was later made an offer by my university, I accepted it for all the same reasons; reasons which, I would imagine, could be given by any one of the candidates. The truth is, however, that I had given very little thought to the day to day reality of spending a year in Europe, what it would involve and how I would feel. I wouldn’t be starting for over a year and at the time that seemed like a lifetime away, so really, why worry? 

In the end, the date of my departure arrived all too quickly and as the weeks turned in to days I have to admit that most of the excitement I had felt was replaced by nerves and, at times, sheer panic. At my worst I had all but convinced myself that I was absolutely, definitely going to hate it.

I’ve now been here for a week and, while I’ve had my moments, I’ve made it through. My exchange is in Aarhus, Denmark, and although I’m enrolled on an intensive language course, for the moment my Danish doesn’t extend much beyond “hello”, “thankyou” and “goodbye”. Arriving in Copenhagen airport, the Danish signs and announcements were enough to send me running for the metaphorical hills; no one would notice if I just got back on the plane, surely? And that isn’t the only thing- Danish pillows are square, not rectangular, and very, very soft, you get on to buses at the back, and I haven’t yet managed to get out of the habit of looking right when I cross the road. Add to that the cost of food; noticeably higher than the UK; a so-called “plastic bottle deposit”, and the fact that you can buy beer in WHSmith, and it’s a lot for anybody to take in.

After an admittedly shaky start, however, I think I’m finally starting to find my Danish-feet. Through International Centre events, I’ve managed to meet a few of the 600 exchange students starting at Aarhus this September; I certainly feel much less alone and it’s comforting to recognise that all of these people are going through exactly what I am. I know that this is still just the beginning; there will be, I have no doubts, many ups and downs between now and June when I eventually pack up and head home. The “W-curve of culture shock”, a model which I recently discovered is used in pre-departure meetings as far away as New Zealand, tells me that I’m currently in the honeymoon period, with cultural shock and mental isolation still to look forward to. That may be true, but for now at least, I’ll enjoy the honeymoon while it lasts.