Chocolate & The City

Introduction I landed at the airport at midnight. I waited patiently in the interminable queue at passport control and arrived home (well, not really home, since I’m temporarily staying in a dingy female-only hostel) at three in the morning, after handing over a hundred pounds to a taxi driver who wasn’t exactly the chatty type. I climbed four floors up a dark and smelly staircase hauling my two huge suitcases, which seemed to gain weight with each passing floor. And I didn’t have even the slightest moment of hesitation – just excitement for my new adventure. It took me a long time to make this decision. Moving abroad is exciting, but it’s not easy. You cut yourself off from those you love, and from habits and certainties. But that little voice inside me had become more and more insistent: ‘It’s time to make a clean break with the past and start again.’ So I got on that plane with no idea what to expect, but safe in the knowledge that I had had enough of everything and everyone. I was tired of my life: tired of the law firm I worked at, where, despite making sacrifices, I was an insignificant cog in the machine with no prospects for growth, and where having a career was a luxury afforded to a handful of often incompetent ‘chosen ones’. In a way, I was also fed up with my country, which continues not to give due recognition to those who deserve it. Above all, I was tired of having to put up with the daily torture of seeing my awful ex around the office with his hangdog expression, as if the broken heart were his rather than mine… The truth is that when you hear that little voice, you can’t help but listen to it. You have to go along with it. It’s the sign that you need to get on your way, because something is waiting for you somewhere out there. And that’s exactly how I feel. That something amazing is waiting for me here. Here, where everything is possible. Here in London!