About six months ago, I moved to England. It was my very first trip alone, also the first time living entirely alone in another country. I never really thought of England before, but as it came, I just left France and went there in Brighton, without knowing anything about it. Blind-fooled but intrigued, I had no idea of what would happen there. I decided to take an English course, as I wanted to improve it and challenge myself everyday.
My journey started on the 9th of April. From Paris to London by train, a very small suitcase and my Eastpack, I was ready to leave. I lived in an international residence with people from all around the world, shared my room with roommates and I must say if at first I was fearful meeting them, I learned to know them as they became the most amazing mates and friends. With them, I was able to go anywhere and to live the true Brightonian life, somehow between the beaches to the nightclubs… it was definitely more than just sharing a room or a bottle, it was the purest feeling, it was –they call it– friendship.
The first thing that got there me are the beaches. Brighton is surrounded by the sea, making it a city of wind, seagulls and pebbles. I spent hours and hours, mostly during night time, sitting alone writing poetry listening to white noises. Nothing was more peaceful than the soft blow of the wind on the slow-motion waves of the sea.
I was able to think, create, and most importantly, express.
It is also a city of tourism, mainly for the well-known Brighton Pier, but to be fair I didn’t spend much time there, I might went about two or three times, but it is definitely not the kind of place I would recommend. Just as crowded but way more interesting for its small streets are the Laines for the shops, cafes, art, gigs… Brighton has a pretty strong relationship with art, and it is actually nearly impossible to meet someone who’s not in a band or at least, playing an instrument, painting, drawing, or writing… they are just so many gigs, local bands and artists, it is simply impossible not to be inspired.
I can’t say how many bottles of this I drank with Fernanda, my Chilean mate. She told me the deeper was the hole under the bottle it was, the better the wine was… honestly, even if it was bad the memories i had with her were special enough for me to forget the taste of it. We used to drink every monday night, saying it was to make the week shorter…
I believe music makes the soul of Brighton, the purest part of its soul.
As I lived in England, I had to meet the locals. It wasn’t too frighting for once, Brightonian people are naturally kind. I noticed they were a lot of people from all around the world that makes Brighton a city of multiculturalism, you can find almost anything from anywhere, speak any language, eat any food from any country and still be in Brighton… it’s truly fascinating. There’s a real sense of belonging, whoever you are, wherever you are in Brighton, you’ll always feel safe and welcomed.
Finally, there’s so much more to say about this city but I don’t have the right words to qualify how insane this part of my life was. I literally walked into a tourism office, asked for a ticket for a random city I didn’t know about, and left. It’s a lifetime experience, and I can’t say how grateful I am sometimes listening to my insane brain.
I’ll see you later, Brighton.