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Hard to believe another big part of my life is over. It's never easy to say goodbye to something, and this has been as hard as I expected.

Before I left, I made the grand and confident proclamation that I would probably hate it when I arrived, things would get better in the middle and by the end I would be loving it and unwilling to leave. This was based on hearsay from past assistants as well as my own predictions. I also knew that a few weeks knowing no one would make things a million times worse.

When I arrived at this airport seven months ago, I was completely overwhelmed. It was a beautiful day, and I stepped off the plane onto the top stair and looked around me. There was nothing. Nothing. One runway, one plane (the one I had been on) and very few people. It was unlike no airport I had ever been to - completely silent. I went along with it, thinking this could be good. The airport itself is a nice little place and when I arrived it was still being finished off. Stepping into the arrivals hall there were no walls, just a big room with those fabric "lines" you see in post offices to keep you from escaping the passport check. I had bags to collect, so waited by the baggage belt for it to spring into life. I waited, and waited, until eventually the double doors at the back of the hall opened, and three men with trolleys piled high with baggage walked through the hall shouting "Trouver vos baggages". Confused, amused and scared I heaved my bags from the pile.

This parallel universe was quelled a bit after my collection by my "responsable" teacher Jacqueline Marcheix. We had been in contact via e-mail during the summer, trying to organise things from Orlando. She had managed to convince Monsieur de la Burgade to take me in for the year, and had told me she would collect me at the airport "holding a brightly coloured umbrella" so I could find her. The sight of someone who, admittedly, I didn't know, but who I had had contact with was somehow comforting. The kindness Jacqueline showed me in the first few days (and indeed the whole 7 months) - showing me round, welcoming me, dinner - made everything a bit easier. The first week of this life of solitude (I hadn't started working yet) was not easy. It was incredibly difficult to see how this experience could get better, what could possibly make it bearable for 7 months.

But it did. Ups and downs, highs and lows were a running theme of the first months. I can't hide the fact from anyone that I wasn't exactly happy in Limoges. The pace of life seemed so slow, I had so little to do, and until I met Ansleigh, Jon and Alex at the first training day I was miserable. Even after that I wasn't exactly thrilled to be spending my pre-emptively romanticised year abroad in Limoges, miserable and bored.

It wasn't the best start, but in hindsight I had too many expectations - living alone was a hinderance to friend making, but thankfully that came in time. And living with Monsieur was a better insight into France than I had thought it would be, though we spoke English most of the time, he was a great living dictionary, and very culturally aware. Friends came in time, bigger in number but those I had already made became much closer as time went by.

Time also brought more appreciation for the pace of life - despite the fact we are just an hour over "la manche" from France the cultural differences are immense. As I started to go the market every saturday, found my favourite places around the small yet charming city and settled in at school life got progressively better. This continued, quite exponentially, and our travels around France were always a lot of fun.

Now I sit here in the airport once more, about to end it and go home it doesn't feel quite right. Though I have been fully aware this was coming, the fact that it is now here seems somehow wrong, and I am genuinely upset to be leaving this all behind. I wouldn't claim that I enjoyed my life here more than I do back in Glasgow, which is somehow different to many other assistants, especially Americans. I, unlike many, am not disillusioned with my hometown, with the UK or with Glasgow, I love them all - there is a lot to love. I also love France, but life in the city you were born an raised in will, for me, always have an unfair advantage.

In despite of that I'm awfully glad to have done this, and to have done what I set out to do. My goals were to learn some French, travel at bit, make lots of friends and to experience the "real" French culture. As I leave Limoges and my year abroad behind I'm proud, happy and above all relived to say that I did all of the above. In many ways, that is the measure of a successful year abroad.