I left the UK to live in France (see pic: attempting to look nonchalantly French)

Falling in love, I’d moved to an unfamiliar city to be with the boyfriend.

I worked in a bar and made friends who became my family.

I spoke French all day. I dreamt in French.

I rode around on a “Mobylette” moped.

We slept on the floor of a friend’s apartment.

In a cobbled courtyard we sublet a tiny studio flat, up a spiral staircase.

I did a night school class to become a tour guide.

I studied at the Sorbonne (“Mademoiselle, you speak French like a guttersnipe”)

I dropped out and got a series of jobs: translator, receptionist, barmaid, guide.

I discovered Parisian night life – bars and clubs with a vibe of their own.

Life wasn’t easy, but it was never dull. I was no Emily in Paris – I lived on a minuscule budget and the boyfriend worked at Burger King – but it was a life that felt full of possibility. I tried things. I knocked on doors. Some of them even opened. Everything I tried led to something else. None of my endeavours were wasted.

As anyone who has lived abroad will know, you learn to live by your wits. Your horizons get expanded.

Three years later I moved to London, on a mission to become a journalist. Within a year I had my foot on the ladder, blagging a job at Just Seventeen. But it’s self-employment that ultimately feels “right” for me, because it’s full of possibilities. Knocking on doors and trying things. Creating my own opportunities and making connections.

I do love an adventure. What adventures have made you the person you are today?