Last week, it was exactly three years ago when I set foot in South Africa. There I was, in a strange city, with only a backpack and a mind full of questions and uncertainties, not realizing that this temporary adventure of six months would be the start of a brand new life.

But I loved it, and I immediately fell head over heels with this place. The sight of Table Mountain, caressed by a thin veil of clouds, took my my breath away. The people, the sounds, the smells all seemed so familiar to me. The sense of finally being in Africa again, a continent my parents and me left behind in the late 1980's, was overwhelming.

Of course, over the past years, I have seen the other side of South Africa as well. That is simply the reality of being an inquisitive journalist. As a reporter, you see things other people do not see or realize, and being confronted with the many problems South Africa faces has kept me awake at night quite often.

Nevertheless, I am able to leave this country. I must say that the idea of leaving crossed my mind a few times. Up until a few months ago, I was about to move to Ireland with my former partner. But I decided not to. I couldn't. I simply love South Africa way too much. This country flows through my veins and it is solidly embedded in my soul. It is truly as they say (and I hate clichés): Home is where the heart is. And my heart happens to be in South Africa.