I've been home for four days and I still haven't recovered from the intensity of training!

I set off from Sheffield on the 17th, with a mammoth 14 hour journey ahead of me. After getting overexcited in Manchester and asking the first girl I saw of around my age getting the coach to Glasgow if she was with PT and getting a very confused 'No' in response, it took me a while to pluck up the courage to approach anyone in the very waterlogged Queen street station. Finally, I approached a group of girls who, like myself, were all looking very panicked at the word 'cancelled' flashing up on the departures board next to the only train to Oban that could get us there in time to catch the ferry to coll the next morning. Due to the raging thunderstorm, the tunnel in and out of the station had become flooded, so no trains could get in or out of the station. In the end we managed to get one of the lower level trains and connect to the now half an hour late Oban train. Crisis averted.

Throughout my entire journey north, the part of training I was most dreading was meeting my partner; what if I hated her? Not knowing who I'm going to be spending the next year in close quarters with was making me very nervous in deed. I was in luck, however, as after about 20 minutes of sitting opposite each other on the train and not realising it, a girl asked me if I was with Project, and it turned out that she was my partner! Megan seems really nice, and over the course of training we had a few laughs and I think PT have done a pretty good job partnering us up. A fellow Yorkshire girl, Megan is as apprehensive about teaching children as I am, not one of those over enthusiastic, constantly happy people that grates on my nerves, and is the perfect person to give me a clap round the back of the head and a stern talking to if those feeling of homesickness start to creep in while we're away.

After a restless (with excitement!) night's sleep at Oban Backpackers, we boarded the 3 hour ferry to Coll. From the moment we stepped off the ferry, training was jam packed. After depositing our bags in our bedrooms, shared with 2-3 other girls (2 in our case) we dove straight in to talks and discussions. We met all the other people that would be spending the year in Uganda with us, and began with a bonding game where we had to hold a ball of string, answer a question about ourselves, and then throw the ball of string to someone else, creating a web of string by the end. After lunch was the 'You and Your Partner Session', we found it easy to identify three similarities between each other, but it was a bit harder when it came to the differences as Megan and I seem to be fairly similar. We had a welcomed tea break before the dreaded fundraising talks, which brought me back to earth with a bump when I realised how much I still need to achieve before I leave. That evening we took a trip to the Coll football pitch where Project Trust took on the Coll football team. I spent about 5 minutes on the pitch and I'm pretty sure I was more of a hindrance than a help, so had a go at rounders instead and then retreated to the top of a big rock to watch the rest of the football with Megan and Ashleigh, who is off to Malawi.

Day two brought talks, presentations, and more talks. We were taught the basics of teaching and lesson planning, followed by a scary talk on culture shock, a discussion of our hopes and fears with our country groups, and a very alarming talk from John on health, where he informed us that we would all get malaria and bilharzia, which is a parasite contracted from swimming in infected lakes. Completely unrelated to all the info we had been getting about parasites and other nasties, I had started to feel gradually more unwell throughout the day, and had a bit of a meltdown and ate my tea in the office with Susie before she gave me and Megan our post reports and told us all about our project!

Feeling a little better after some food, Megan and I took a walk down to the beach, fairly uneventful, but on the way back I tripped over a hole, face planted the floor and broke my flip flop in the process, I was laughing so much that a passing car slowed down to see if I was alright, and Megan thought she was going to wet herself...

By Wednesday it was safe to say I was feeling the effects of staying up late chattering and being woken early by the member of staff walking down the corridor banging a pot and yelling for us to get up. I swear to god I can still hear the noise of that pot echoing around my skull. That morning we taught our first lessons, which was nerve racking. 10 minutes is such a short space of time, and so long at the same time. it was so hard to judge how much material was too much, and what wouldn't be enough to fill the time. I began ok, but in my usual style I ended up speeding off and talking at a hundred miles an hour so was out of breath by the time my ten minutes was up. That afternoon was filled with yet more talks designed to scare us into being sensible overseas.

By Thursday it was beginning to feel like we'd been on Coll forever. After teaching our second lessons, this time 20 minutes, I was beginning to feel much more confident about my teaching skills. After a much needed tea and coffee break (our only one of that day, a sore point as I'm pretty sure that the two tea and coffee breaks we got per day were the only things keeping me alive), we were given another talk about behaving ourselves overseas and all the things that could go wrong if we don't, with several toe curling stories, including one about gang rape. Cheery.

That afternoon we were given our flight itineraries. That was when it finally hit home. In six weeks I would be on another continent, far away from my friends, family, lovely boyfriend and my roller derby team. The moment we were handed those pieces of paper was the moment when the overwhelming feeling of excitement tinged with nerves took over. It really was real.

That evening we were treated to a slap up three course meal (I even ate a banana!) with several glasses of wine, followed by a Ceilidh dance. Everyone was dolled up and I was absolutely dreading the dancing. As The Boy so lovingly puts it; I have the grace of a hippo. I managed not to take anyone out, though I did inflict a few stomped on toes and managed to kick Susie. Had such a laugh though, and the wine and vodkas certainly helped with that... After the ceilidh everyone headed down to the beach and when I woke up on Friday morning, I was a little disturbed at the amount of sand in my pants...

The next morning it was incredibly strange to think that as we waved goodbye to the staff on the pier, that the next time we would be on Coll would be a year later for our debriefing course, after having spent a year abroad.

Training has definitely helped me get my head in gear for going abroad. I'm still apprehensive, but most of the worry is being drowned out by excitement and the drive to get that final bit of fundraising done before I head off to Uganda in five weeks time. It's so strange to that that in 35 day's time Team Uganda will be on the plane to Entebbe, via Nairobi!