jeudi 9 septembre 2010


Little did I know when I made my first visit to France that I would end up living there. I was 14 and went with the family next door on a day trip to Boulogne. I was clutching my Post Office-issued visitor’s passport (valid one year), and it was also my first ever trip abroad.

We sailed from Southend Pier on the pleasure steamer, the Royal Daffodil. Even the ice creams in Boulogne seemed exotic to me then. And as we made our way home, I knew that I would return…

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