August 2004- Landing in Belfast Intl airport looking like a real 23 year old Parisian. Full of hopes and dreams, full of clothes and shoes, and with a pinch of French arrogance. My head held high, I strolled around pushing my trolley, asking for directions in a 'Oh what sexy accent!' - 'Wearr iz de egzit, pliz?'
It was raining, miserably grey and cold.. Just as the captain had announced when the plane was landing. 'We are about to land, it is 15 degrees in Belfast. Grey, windy and cold'. I opened a suitcase and got my hat, coat, scarf... and a tiny umbrella that fitted in my handbag. I was ready to face the weather!
As I stepped outside, struggling to push the trolley with one hand while holding my umbrella in the other hand, the wind started blowing my trolley in the opposite direction. My umbrella blew inside out. I got soaked. 'Welcome to Belfast' said the sign at the exit door..
-'Alright Love?' asked a concerned middle aged bearded man.
-'Hi, how can I get to Belfast from here, please?'
-'Over there' he pointed at the bus stop, not taking his eyes off me. 'Where are you from?' he asked with an inquisitive look on his face.
-'I come from Paris' I replied, my feelings slightly hurt from the fact that he had guessed so easily I wasn't from here.
-'Paris? What brings you to this hole?'
-'I want to improve my english!' I replied smiling, determined to remain positive.
I looked and sounded like a foreigner. I queued for the bus, shivering in the cold. In front of me was a couple with three kids just back from Disneyland Paris. All three kids were wearing flip flops, t-shirts, shorts and Mickey Mouse ears. 'I have nine months to get to know this place' I thought to myself. Not realizing that this city would change my life, that seven years later I would still be living in Belfast.
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