I value honesty. I feel honesty is something worth achieving. Honesty in your work, honesty in your relationship, truthfulness to yourself. It really matters. I would be being dishonest if I were to deny falling in love with Europe in the past five days. I always cared for the idea of Europe, the romantic lifestyle it offered. But since arriving I’ve had a love affair with Europe – the history, the architecture, the culture, the people. I am genuinely lost for words.

They asked us what we were looking forward to most. Some people said the cuisine, others said visiting historical sites, one even said proposing to his girlfriend on the Eiffel Tower (she said yes!). I couldn’t pin it down to a particular locational moment. I realised it was those points in time where you’re walking around, be it Regent St or the Arc de Triomphe, and you stop, and it hits you. The ‘holy fuck moment’ – and I have no want for a better term.

These past five days have been filled with holy fuck moments. It was a holy fuck moment when I saw my first double decker bus. It was a holy fuck moment when I sat in Foquet’s drinking water out of a crystal glass. It was a holy fuck moment when the miniature ponies ran onstage at the Moulin Rouge. It was a holy fuck moment when I made my first purchase from Galleria Lafayette (there’s a reason I’m broke). It was a holy fuck moment when I stood on the stairs at Chateau Fontainebleau where Napoleon was arrested. I live and breathe for these moments.

And now I lie naked in an empty bath in Lyon, and I couldn’t ask for anything more. Honest.

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