After 37 hours of travelling I arrived. And what a relief it was. I chose a flight that deliberately had a long stop over in Abu Dhabi so I didn’t arrive first thing in the morning in Paris, because I’m a sleeper and I would have slept that day away (enter jet lag). It was definitely a long trip but I got here in the end. On my way I sat by a lovely little Greek man named George. He was a talker. I’m ok with a bit of chat on planes because when you have 20 hours together you can’t just pretend the other person isn’t there. But too much chat and I go nuts (enter head phones signifying the end of said chat). George learnt quickly.
My first few days have involved an abundance of interrupted, scattered sleep. Walking for miles literally to the point I needed to have a break today due to my feet hurting so much. Eating french sticks and successfully ordering a beer in french. So far, I think I’m nailing it. Don’t you love that confidence right there, that I can make such a statement so early on and almost get away with it.