It is the quietest car ride of my life. My car is packed to full capacity, and I'm pressed against the window by a giant mini-fridge box. I look outside the window and stare at the city buildings along Yonge Street, and then at our final destination: the University of Toronto. This is the first time I've moved away from home. My parents are reluctant to see me go and that's expressed through the quiet in the car. 'So Liz, you're going to be coming home every Sunday for dinner and laundry right?' 'Of course, Mum.' This is our conversation followed by another five to 10 minutes of silence. As we roll up the drive it dawns on me that no matter the distance, nowhere else ever feels quite like home. Our car is ambushed by buff students, blaring music and yelling voices. I look at the building that will be my home for nine months. White stone, arches with historic walkways ... this place has absolutely no resemblance to my home, though it does look like something out of Harry Potter. Frosh Leaders and members of the football team (volunteers) haul each item out of our car. I hop out, jingle the keys and, with a nervous smirk, point towards the halls of residence. With an entourage of strangers, my parents and I squeeze through the front doors and towards J85 - my room. I struggle with the keys and observe my surroundings - the hallway could give Alcatraz jailhouse a run for its money. I pop open the door to see a vast amount of empty space and four stark white walls. Then the fridge is placed in a corner and the Frosh Leaders slide out of the doors. I'm left with a room full of bags and a fridge. My parents waste no time getting me settled in the room. Mum takes it upon herself to clean up the dust and grime that covers my walls and floors. Dad starts to take measurements and scatters foam across the floor as he unwraps the mini-fridge. 'Liz, where did you want the fridge?' 'Uhh ...' 'Liz, we should probably clean the top of the dresser, eh?' I'm speechless. In the midst of one of the most important moving days of my life, it's difficult to answer questions that come my way. After what seems like the quietest car ride of my life, I'm the one left silent and uncertain. Nevertheless, there's one thing I know for sure: whatever lies ahead in university, whether it's late nights of homesickness, endless hours of studying, or adventurous escapades with newly found friends, I will always have my family to get me through it. Then it dawns on me that maybe the quietest car ride of my life might have been what I needed to realise that.