New Beginnings

Asphalt on a rainy day. Because that's my favourite cliché about London.

I can't believe I haven't written here for so long. But I think I know why: when I created this blog, my main goal was to recount my journey as I was trying to emigrate. And I thought I would have lots to say about having actually succeeded in emigrating, about the difference in the countries, in the libraries, in the way of life. But actually... I don't.

If there is one thing I have learnt in those past few months of living in London, it's that life isn't that different between London and Paris. One is a busy European capital. The other is a busy European capital. The only differences are only anecdotal.

• What I don't miss from Paris: le métro, its smell of piss and that feeling of oppression when riding the busiest line, pressed against strangers.
• What I do miss from Paris: my family, friends and colleagues. Obviously.

• What I enjoy most about London: meeting other friendly librarians (yes, I'm looking at you, Twitter folks); watching Doctor Who live without having to deploy treasures of technological imagination; walking around the city.
• What I don't enjoy about London: giving so much money to the TFL.

• What has changed for me since January: I've stopped getting almost hit by cars because I was looking at the wrong side of the road; my knowledge of London's airports has drastically increased (Heathrow, I love you); I'm now really settled down at work.
• What hasn't really changed since January: all the rest. I'm still me!

Overall, I do think that my quality of life has drastically improved since I live in London. Thanks to its numerous parks and the kindness of its inhabitants. (Yes, I confirm, Londoners, even if they are far from perfect, are much much much nicer than Parisians. Believe me.)

So now that that's settled, let's close the chapter of changing countries and changing life. And let's go back to library stuff. This blog will now officially become "just another library blog". :)

Boarding call for London

 
So, this is it.

It took me quite a while to process that it's really happening but, yes, I'm coming to London very soon! On January 5th precisely. I've found a job, I've found a room and I'm still figuring out the details, but this is for real and I'm coming.

I never thought I would experience so much anguish at hearing such happy news but, the thing is, when hearing that I'd got the job, I wasn't as excited / jumping up and down / singing out loud as I thought I would. Reality is more daunting than dreams.

It was for real. I was leaving. I felt like on the edge of a cliff, trying to muster the courage to jump and searching for the confidence that I would spread my wings and fly. And not crash lamentably on the sharp rocks washed by the angry sea.

So, for the first few weeks, when people asked me how my UK job search was going, I would reluctantly tell "yeah, actually, I think I've found something..." and then abruptly change the subject. The job I've found will actually be enthralling and I'm really excited about it, but, at first, it was really hard to project myself into this new life. And I was paralyzed at the idea of all the things, administrative and such, that I would have to take care of to make sure that it would all work out smoothly. The rocks at the bottom of my cliff were made of unfathomable paperwork, being utterly and depressingly lonely and having nowhere to live.
But since my flat hunt trip there, a few weeks ago, I can now smile when answering that, yes, in 2014, I'll be in London.

This trip gave me two important reassurances. Firstly, it is a huge relief to know that I will have a home to arrive to, to rest a bit in and to fly away from. Secondly, it is also so important to know that I won't be there alone: I will live with wonderful housemates, I will work with some very nice colleagues, and I've also had the chance to meet some other London librarians, especially through the #libdimsum (yummy and chatty!). I am so relieved to already know a few people in this so very large city.

By the time I came back to Paris, my biggest, sharpest rocks had vanished. At the bottom of the cliff now only lies the sea. A sea composed of social security papers and oyster cards and bank accounts. But it's okay. If I was to fall, at least, I wouldn't shatter my skull on geological remains. And I know how to swim. And even scuba dive.

Overall, change is never easy. I've been grieving quite a bit over all the things and people and the job I'm leaving behind. It's just as if I hadn't really understood what I was leaving before. But now the process is almost complete and I'm feeling quite ready to go out of the chrysalis and barge along the Thames, tackling whatever may come next. I'm ready to jump.

So I'm wrapping up all my projects at work, trying to catalogue like a mad woman all the stacks of books that have piled up on (and around...) my desk and leaving meticulous instructions to whoever will come next for the acquisitions I have carefully planned.

I'm very much looking forward to begin this new page of my life, even if it's still a bit scary. But, most of all, I can't wait to meet new librarians (and non-librarians) of Great-Britain. So, come January, if you'd like to have a pint or a cup of coffee with me... You know where to ask!

The above photo was taken by myself in La Réunion, in October 2013.
This photo and text are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution - ShareAlike 2.0 Generic License.

Hello, World! Hello, Britain!

It took me by surprise on 15 April. I was just coming back from a long awaited, carefully planned and tightly budgeted trip to Japan. During the whole holiday, I daydreamed about what it would be like to live there. And then I just blurted out... "Bah, anyway, I'd rather live in Great-Britain!".

Well, that made me think. I've been wanting to live abroad for a very long time. I mean, it's been on my bucket-list since middle school. But last year, almost exactly one year ago actually, I visited London for the first time. And it distinctly felt like falling in love... I spent all summer riveted to my tv, watching the Olympics (well, I would have anyway, but the London setting felt all the more special). In September, I was lurking on-line typing frantically "French librarians in the UK" on Google. In November, I was back there for a concert and a show. By January, I was budgeting for Japan and wondering if I would be able to save enough to plan another British trip in the summer.

So, I was hooked. But, in my head, I was still stuck on the thought that I had missed my chance during college. Then, I was too busy trying to figure out what I wanted to do to also sort out where I wanted to live. And I'm still trying to make peace with my younger self for not even thinking of applying for an Erasmus. But... Is it really too late? Is going far away on a whim only for young students who got enough of their wits together to get a scholarship and a plane ticket? Well, it took me all that time and that post-Japan realisation to come to that conclusion, but now I'm sure: I refuse to believe that it's too late. So I'm leaving.

Well... At least, that's what I told everyone. I announced it right away to my managers so that I couldn't back off when the realisation of the enormity of what I had just decided finally and inevitably exploded in my brain. And they were nothing but supportive. So I told it too to my friends and family. "I'm leaving. I want to live in Great-Britain." And they were thrilled beyond measure that I had such a daring project. Yes, I'm so very lucky.

But the thing is... In that exulting moment of decision, I didn't know how I would pull that trick. It's great to want to go away, but how do people actually do that? And I still don't know how I'm going to do it. Or if it will ever work. But I'm going to try anyway. With all my hopes and strength and heart. And we'll see what happens.
So, do you want to walk along this terrifying path with me?