Brightonian life, how I left everything.

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.

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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 itfriendship.

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Royal Pavillon aka the place to visit, which i never visited bc i’m a true anti-system rebellious…. nah juste kidding, i just rather write poetry on the beach.

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.

 

 

IMG_2494It 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.

 

 

 

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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.

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I’ll see you later, Brighton.

The outside world of Vietnam

As a child, I grew up in France. France is my home land, I was born there, I went to school there, I have my friends there, everything. Born and raised here, made in France and all… Though, a piece of my life’s puzzle was missing. 

I recently turned 18 y.o., it is the chance for me to leave and build my own life, my own person. My first choice was obviously Vietnam, land of my ancestors. I used to spend my summers in Vietnam, with my family.

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When I landed from the plane, walked into the airport, I felt this warm weather hitting my bones again, the glaring light of the sun on my skin, and it felt so great to be back home. Vietnamese was the first language I was taught, hearing all the voices harmonizing in this language around me again sounded like a blessing.

I couldn’t be more grateful of life right now, being back here after years is such a chance. Being able to meet the sea, this sand, these roads again gave me life. As a child of both nations, people often ask me which side is the most important to me, or to which one I belong the most and I cannot really give an answer to that, to be fair. All I can say is that Vietnam is definitely the most likely to be my safe place, where I really feel myself. It always been the comforting place.

Coming back to Vietnam after 4 years was a big change and chance in my life. Things seem to be different after a while, and it’s the case somehow, in Vietnam. Nowadays, there’s more and more big towers, more shopping centers, more of European lifestyle… but deeply, Vietnam didn’t change much. It still the same old place where I adore to get lost, with wavering roads, the mix between tradition and modernity, blessed by the sun and warmth every single day.

I wanted to share more pictures on my blog, but unfortunately my SD card died in the process, causing lost of most of my files. Here are the only few pictures I was able to save, some of them are from my iPhone also. 

I’ll see you later, Vietnam.