And that’s pretty much it. Over a period of a year, I stopped seeing Malta as a prison and started to see life as enjoyable even from the confines of such a small island. 

Some of the things I’d enjoy doing whilst I was on my trip, I could easily do here – like hanging up a hammock on my terrace for when I’d want some me-time, running out into the sea and feeling freer than ever, or going out of my way to watch a sunset. Some of the things I’d dread about this place were ones I was faced with time and time again whilst abroad and never complained about – say the sweltering summer heat, the unending traffic jams, or stupid bureaucratic crap.

But then there was another thing that trumped the rest – the monotony of daily life. Sure, I don’t get to trek mountains or swim in rivers or walk on glaciers here, but I could always dive or hike or try my hand at new skills. And, most importantly, when I wouldn’t be able to, I’d have my journal, my photos, the friends I’ve made, the music I listened to, and documentaries keeping my thirst for knowledge alive – reminding me of all that I had managed to see and do! Just like that, the memories I had made over the past year would be kept alive.