New blog. New job. New city. New culture. New country. New language.
Before wurmfest, I was interviewed for work in France. I thought I’d fluffed it; I certainly fluffed some simple stuff I should have wellied. But, apparently, I was good on the complex stuff; I was offered the job within a couple of hours.
Actually, after eight months out of work, I was offered three roles all to start on the same day: two in Ireland, one in France. To be honest, I don’t fit Ireland, it’s too British for me. When I was spotty youth, I seriously wanted to live in France, and still fancy the place. Even so, one of the Irish jobs was the best. I seriously considered it, but it was let down by location. The ramshackle Irish transport system means Galway is days away from centres of cultural innovation.
So now I’m living and working in Paris. Despite having moved abroad a number of times, I always find it difficult. It’s not the bureaucracy, it’s not the finding a place to live, it’s the rebuilding of social contact.