In his book, The World is Flat, Thomas Friedman argues that the global market is becoming a level playing field with historical and geographical divisions becoming irrelevant. For many expat families, this has become the new reality with globalisation taking them out of their home country and placing them in new environments.
Apart from those who are not allowed to vote, 18 percent of British expats not planning to do so say that they find the matter too complicated to deal with. Another 15 percent state that they do not feel informed enough to make a decision. A lack of interest or influence are each mentioned by 9 percent to be the primary reason for having decided not to take part in the election.
While my travels have been daunting at times, there was one thing that remained familiar and readily available: social media. What was even more surprising? The notion that people just like me were now packing up their bags and making a living off the very platforms that served as my lifeline in unfamiliar territory.
Eight months after moving to Denmark, I'm now straddling that crepuscule between things being novel and others becoming the norm, so in this lucid moment I wanted to jot down a few observations, about my experience of Denmark and, more importantly, about the people who hail from it - an invitees examination, if you will.
Last week I found myself in the well-to-do Copenhagen seaside suburb of Hellerup and I was drawn down one of the side roads leading to the front as the sun was actually shining and glittering off the sea. I was sitting looking out towards Sweden when I realised that I was sitting right by the Vinterbad or winter swimming area.
It's entirely possible to love and hate London with ferocious, equal intensity. On good days, you're invincible. Because you're there, and you're living your dream. On bad days, you want to tumble over the edge of the world: frustrated, perplexed and fiercely clutching your Vegemite jar. Tomorrow, you'll rise, determined to endure.