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.

Lyonnais Love Affair (Part 1/2)

Surprise, surprise, Iโ€™m writing this blog post on a train - speeding through the French countryside, direction Paris, somewhere in the vague vicinity of Dijon. Itโ€™s a perfect โ€œgolden hourโ€, the rolling wheat fields and villages of tiny terracotta-roofed cottages bathed in the gorgeous glow of the setting sun. Iโ€™m reminded of how much I... Continue Reading →

Flying Solo

Solo travel is a special kind of time to yourself, when thereโ€™s no obligation or pressure to do anything specific or productive. How often, in the busy balancing act of grown-up life, do we get the opportunity to spend several (waking) hours in total repose, without any guilt or consequences?

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