10 years ago today, I boarded a plane to Barcelona with a one-way ticket, my possessions in a rucksack and less than €100 in my pocket. I was 22 years old and ready for an adventure; life wasn´t working out in the UK; I can only now put into words what I was feeling then.

No matter what I tried I never felt truly at home. The military, higher education, security work, hospitality, manual labour, none if it really fit... I needed to get out and see what life was like elsewhere. I made the decision with a weeks notice. The ticket was €35.

Within a week I had my NIE (tax) number and I was working mornings in a hostel in exchange for accomodation, evenings in an Irish Bar for €6 an hour, and teaching Catalan school-children how to play rugby for a little extra cash a few weeks later. I was having a blast.

Those two years were a fantastic blur. I had no money, no ambitions and I was having the time of my life. 10 days after I landed I met an Argentinian girl whilst handing out flyers for the Irish Bar. We celebrate our 10 year anniversary next week.

Barcelona has been incredibly good to me. I discovered wine here. I made nearly all my best friends here. My son was born here, and we´ve invested all our savings into a house; the millenial dream, without parental support. My life, as I know it, was built here.

None of this would have been possible without freedom of movement. I probably earnt €10k after tax in that first year in the city; a long way short of the minimum to qualify for a work permit now. Without financially comfortable parents or a well paid job lined up; no dice.

All of this is to say; I´m incredibly grateful that I had the opportunities I did. My heart goes out to the young men and women of the UK who can´t do the same, mostly thanks to the votes of their parents and grandparents. You have no idea what you´ve given away.

Anyway, enough rambling. Time to go and hug my family, have a cup of coffee and start enjoying the next 10 years.

Gracias, Barcelona.