Two years ago, I
was on a beach in Queensland, north of Cairn, camera ready to shoot at one of
the most amazing spectacles of Mother Nature: a solar eclipse. It was not my
first time in Australia, but it was the beginning of the Journey, the one
defining experience of my life, and from the moment I stepped out of the plane,
my head was set for a full on discovery of the world around me, and what better
experience to begin this adventure than seeing, along with a beach full of
people, the marriage of the Moon and Sun?
One year ago, I
was on my second road trip to New Zealand, this time driving our way from North
to South. We were actually just arriving on the Southern Island, visiting
wineries on the road to Abel Tasman National Park, where one of my many firsts
was waiting for me: the next day there was to be a parachute with my name on
it.
This year, I
will be celebrating my fifth month living in London. When I came back to Paris
after 14 months of travelling, I quickly realized that, even though my social
life was thriving, Paris was no longer enough for me. The world was my oyster,
I needed to live outside of the city that I grew up in and that I still loved.
I needed to find again the thrill experiencing living abroad. At first, the
idea of going back for another year of working holiday visa in New Zealand was
reassuring, but I figured that I needed to find a real job in Europe first
before trying to move back in that part of the world.
What would have
happened had I gone back? I have no clue. I might have worked in a winery like
so many backpackers, I might have tried to find a real job, that would only
have lasted six months due to the visa restrictions. I would definitely have
come back to Australia, and done what I missed out the first time. I would most
certainly have travelled to the Philippines, which have been on my To Do List
for quite a while now. In an ideal world, I would have found the perfect job in
New Zealand; got a working visa, planned my next five years in the Long White
Cloud, learning how to navigate a boat around the coastline of this wonderful
country, and finally would have found my place under the sun of Australia. That
would have been a good plan, but only in an ideal world.
I love living in
London, for so many reasons. First of all, obviously, people here speak English
most of the time, and I have always loved hearing and talking in English. It’s
actually more than love. I’ve always told myself that I was born in the wrong
language. When I speak English, I am another version of myself. I dream in
English, think in English my most crazy thoughts and fantasies. Second of all,
people kept telling me about all the events, but I would never have imagined
being blown away that much. Up until now, there hasn’t been a month without a
theatre matinee, with big names on the scene (Martin Freeman, Kristin Scott
Thomas, James McAvoy, Ralph Fiennes…). And even when there is no theatre, it is
impossible to stay idle, if you don’t want to spend your weekend on the couch.
