We are here! After months of going back and forth from Paris on the Eurostar, yard sales and despair, we are finally settled in our new home in London. This move has been a process, at least for me. After a couple of years of wanting a change, the right moment that I waited for arrived.
I spent six years in Paris – basically all my (kind of) adult life. A 21 years old with one suitcase full of very warm clothes – coming from the south of Italy, it was like going to the north pole from my point of view – and practically no French. I didn’t know if I was going to like it – I was actually sure I was going to hate it. Turned out to be the best decision I have ever made. Six months became a year, and a year became six years, without me even realising.
Paris in your 20s is simply the best. Museums, galleries, gigs and even theatre, everything was free. We can also consider the fact that girls never pay to get in a club – that was definitely important at 21. I had the best time drinking cheap wine and flirting with French boys. They are all just as charming as Luis Garrel when you don’t understand a word they are saying.
This kind of euphoria stayed with me until I was 24, maybe 25. Then the age hit me probably and I was less and less willing to finish my nights (or starting my mornings) with a bad crêpe jambon-fromage and even my interest in French boys faded – I blame this on the fact that, at that point, I spoke French.
Everybody loves Paris…
As I said, leaving Paris has been a process – a process that a lot of people don’t seem to understand. Every person I meet asks me “But whyyyyy did you leave Paris?”. I left Paris because I didn’t like it anymore – it’s as simple as that. I could give you many reasons why, but I think it would need another blog post. Of course, Paris is still beautiful and full of opportunities, but it was also making me unsatisfied and fractious. My early years, I couldn’t imagine to live anywhere else. In the last year, I just wanted to go away.
Paris is like any other big city. For some people is the never ending dream to live in the city of lights, for some others is a terrible obligation, for me it was a great parenthesis. I took from it as much I could – the language, the culture, the experiences
and the love for cheese – but at some point I thought it was starting to act like a b***h, so i decided to leave it behind. Like a handsome boyfriend that doesn’t make you happy anymore, I needed to let (myself) go. I don’t know if London will be the one, but it definitely deserves a chance.