JANE MESSINA is not sad in the slightest to be back in Oxford

While riding the bus home from Gatwick after a beautiful week in Germany and Austria, I’m overcome with the strangest feeling: I’m not sad to be returning to Oxford. I’m not being facetious here — let me explain.

I’m often overcome with jealousy for those who get to remain in the places I’ve been on holiday.

The first memory I have of experiencing this feeling was after my first trip to Europe when I was 13, having been to Venice and Paris with a schoolmate and her parents.

As we were descending over the blanket of smog covering Los Angeles, my heart sunk. Instead of canals filled with gondolas and boats, I saw six-lane highways packed with rush-hour traffic.

Instead of giant clock towers catching my eye in the skyline, action movie billboards dotted the landscape.

The magic I felt in Venice was only a memory, and here I was, about to get in my parents’ car and drive home to the much less romantic reality of suburban American life. I’ll admit that a good part of the difference between my feeling today and my feeling back then comes from the fact that I’m not 13 any more, and being a so-called ‘adult’ might mean the ability to cope with returning to the ho-hum of day-to-day life after being on holiday.

I’ll also admit that much of my lack of disappointment upon returning to Oxford is probably due to fact that I left from and am returning to a wonderfully rare sunny heat spell. But maturity and weather aside, I’m worried this strange feeling comes from something much worse: I think I’m spoiled now.

Yep, you read it here first.

Both Freiburg and Salzburg had their own unique splendour, stunning me with cliff-top fortresses, hillside monasteries, and city-view biergartens.

But as swept away as I was by their charms, I get to come home to quaint pubs, peaceful meadows, colourful gardens, and awe-inspiring architecture — all with histories that can rival most of what I saw on my trip.

I actually turned to my partner inside an Austrian cathedral and said “the one at Christ Church is so much cooler”.

So what does this mean for us Oxford residents? Is it all downhill from here if we leave?

I know that’s not the case, since I’m a strong believer in the idea that you bring your own happiness to wherever you are.

But perhaps my experience can teach a lesson: appreciate the place you are now.

In North Carolina, I sometimes complained of the sticky mosquito-ridden summers, and here I often gripe about the lack of sun or the bureaucratic woes of the NHS. But just like I often yearn for the laid-back charm of Carolina, I will one day miss the enchanted life I lead in Oxford.

Don’t get me wrong — I’ll continue to complain occasionally (especially when the cold, dark days return).

But today, I’m vowing to attempt to appreciate Oxford while I’m here.

Just like Salzburg, it’s really not too shabby.