Oh dear these last few days have been flying by, again I’m writing in English only, again time is not on my side.
Last Saturday I had a full day of marketing class (yeah evening classes twice a week and sometimes, icing on the cake, a whole Saturday), this week my evening classes as usual, and in between a one-day trip to Manchester for work. So today (Thursday) is actually “rest” day (even if I’m blogging from work, naughty girl ;-)), before heading to London tomorrow afternoon for an intensive (and intense I think!) week end with Baron Baptiste!
When I was on the plane from Brussels to Manchester I started thinking a little bit of what home was. You see, I am French, I live in Belgium, and I love the UK. I mean, LOVE. At university, I spent a year over there as part of an exchange programme, it was like a dream come true. I also lived in Madrid, Spain, as an intern during my last year of university. So I know a few places in Europe 😉
But no journey or place gives me the same feeling as the UK. Whenever I take the train to London or the plane to Manchester, I’m saying to myself “I’m going home” and it comes naturally.
I can’t explain it really, it’s just a feeling from my guts.
Dijon, France, is the place that I’m from and where my family lives. Brussels, Belgium, is the place I live. They’re home and in a way they’re not. London is where my heart belongs.
Another place I feel this? My yoga mat.
Where is HOME to you? Is is the place you were born, the place you live, or some place else?
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