There’s no place like home: Embracing expat otherness

I have lived in Paris for almost exactly 8 years, and whilst itโ€™s fair to say Iโ€™ve long since been pretty damn parisienne, Iโ€™m clearly not โ€“ nor will I ever be โ€“ French. Iโ€™m very comfortable in this country; more at home than Iโ€™ve ever felt anywhere else; thoroughly assimilated in a culture that made more sense to me than the one I grew up in long before I even moved here. But I donโ€™t have the references of a native franรงaise, having neither been raised in France, nor by French parents.

Thirty life lessons learned by 30

The first year of my thirties is rapidly nearing its conclusion (hello, 31) and I have to say, the experience of moving into this new decade has, in and of itself, been pretty anticlimactic. Turns out, aging, accruing life experience, all that jazz, itโ€™s more of a gradual process than an overnight kinda thing. Who... Continue Reading →

Thirty, flirty, andโ€ฆ surviving

Two outta three ainโ€™t bad? 30. Itโ€™s a tricky age, isnโ€™t it? For one thing, thereโ€™s now no denying youโ€™re a fully-fledged grown-up. When you start your twenties, youโ€™re essentially still a teenager; many of us were students, living Our Best (student) Lives. Nobodyโ€™s seriously accusing you of adulthood when youโ€™re breakfasting, hungover, on McVitie's... Continue Reading →

Paris has changed. So have I.

Last weekend marked my 7-year Paris-versary (pronounced Pareeversary, in case you were wondering). Seven whole years as a parisienne; seven whole years since I made my teenage pipe dream of living in France a reality. Seven years of grappling with the trials and tribulations of expat life and language barriers and bloody french bureaucracy. Seven... Continue Reading →

Sail away on The Starless Sea

"It drew my eye from across the room โ€” tugging at my attention before Iโ€™d even properly registered its presence, like a beautiful stranger in a bar. I wasnโ€™t wrong to judge this particular book by its cover: the cadence of the words inside captured my interest from โ€” and I mean this literally โ€” the very first page. They had a gorgeously, subtly poetic quality. It was intoxicating. I was, immediately, intoxicated."

Valentine’s Day, your way

Youโ€™d think a day dedicated to all things love and romance would be a universal hit โ€” but Iโ€™m pretty sure the 14th February is at least as disdained and/or dreaded as it is eagerly awaited. The rampant commercialism, the romantic pressure, the impossibility of finding a table in a half-decent restaurant. The having-your-singleness-rubbed-in-your-face. The... Continue Reading →

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