Well, here it is... my first ever attempt to write a blog of some kind! I've long been told that I'm a writer or that I have the gift of the gab, but I've always been reluctant to try my hand at something as I the recurring fears and doubts tend to have seeped into the mind. Nevertheless, I shall endeavour to give the best account of myself possible.
Maybe it makes sense to talk a little more about myself in order to give you the reader a better idea of my story, what I've done and where I've been. I'm originally from the southeast of England, from the county of Kent. I come from a small little town about 8 miles from the coast and thus the English Channel. I've always found the name to be quite intriguing as it gives an insight into the mindset of the English as a nation: "that's them over there...and this is our channel, so let's call it the English Channel!". I recall on my first trip across the Channel to France when I was in my late teens, I went with a friend to Calais for the day (for those who don't know Calais, it's one of the main ports that connects the UK and mainland Europe by sea, usually to Dover, Kent) and it turned out to be a field day of sorts as it gave me the chance to practise some of my school French! Anyway, we walked into a dingy little bar covered in football (as in soccer) scarves and the barman beckoned us in for a drink... in short, we got chatting for a while in French and the barman was incredulous at my level of French considering I'd never visited France before - make no mistake, it was a proud moment for me! Then I ran into my first ever 'lost in translation' moment when I tried describing our trip across the channel by ferry. In a series of funny and slightly awkward cultural gaffes, I tried making a transliteration of 'The English Channel' into French, with something akin to 'la chaîne anglaise', for example. It turns out that I had said something like 'the English Channel', but channel in the sense of a TV channel! This meant that my erstwhile barman/new pal completely lost sense of what I was trying to say! In the end, he thought I was describing some kind of programme I'd seen on the telly back home, vehemently extolling the virtues of French TV in the face of this seemingly pro-English onslaught from someone who, minutes before, he had thought was going to alleviate his gloom on a dull and wet Northern French afternoon. Anyway, I managed to make myself understood in the end, and it had an effect on me that I hadn't anticipated: it had me thinking about how often normal people working between the UK and France must have these moments of communication breakdown or even something potentially more confrontational due to something so simple as a lack of mutual understanding! As a result, it whetted my appetite for travel, for languages, for meeting new people, and it led to appreciate the beauty of being able to communicate and build bridges between folks through speaking. It set the tone for my early adulthood as my hunger for more only grew and grew as the months passed! I thought to myself... 'if I can speak 2-3 languages, then I could bridge the gap between people, resolve misunderstandings and ultimately help people - and even get paid for it!'. It pushed me to improve my French which, in turn, brought me into contact with Italian: a language I had dreamt of learning since I was a little boy watching Italian football on Sunday afternoons, adoring the way the names sounded and wishing I could have a name like that, one so poetic and melodic! Perhaps next time I could delve into some of my experiences with Italian and her unmistakable denizens, those strange, loud, beautiful people that have had the most profound effect on me as a man. Anyway, as they say Italian... "ciao, alla prossima volta, cari amici!".
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