For the past five years, all I ever wanted to do with myself was throw my life into a suitcase and get on the first plane headed straight for England. At the age of twelve this seemed so simple and its been my go to goal since day one. With an English family background, the quarter English I have in me always felt like if I were to go to England it would feel like home the minute I stepped off of the plane, and in each day passing I get a little closer until the day I set out off with Anthony to Europe for two months, hoping to experience our first white Christmas.
Since watching Zoella, I think about going to Brighton almost every minute of everyday, hoping to one day walk down the laneways and feel the fresh Winter air brush past my face, coming from a 36 degree summer day on average in Australia, no doubt Anthony and myself will be wearing several layers of clothing, nonetheless, I want nothing more than to walk along the peer, walk into the quaint cafes and stores and finally feel like the piece of England missing in my heart will be filled. I dream of the day I reach London airport and begin our journey around Europe, spending Christmas is Brighton, our first Christmas away from home in a place so unknown yet for me, just like home.
As a little girl I would live for the days where I got to travel to Roma to visit my grandma who grew up in Ide Hill in England and with everyday passing I miss her more yet think about her constantly and the stories she once shared with me. One that always stuck was the day her and her sister put their ice blocks in the oven to warm them up because they were that frozen, obviously, they were no longer frozen after coming out of the oven, more just like a sticky old mess. Until recently this year I had thought logistically about the fact that in doing this they would have melted but the magic in me as a child believed they would warm a little so they were just right to eat rather than eating them like biting into a brick of ice. Hearing this story from my grandma made me fall in love with the idea of travelling to England more each time I visited her. And when I go I will finally be able to feel like my grandma will be right beside me as I walk along the small laneways and streets, going to Ide Hill, being able to see where the stories I loved so dearly, all began.
For the idea of going to England, is where I feel like in another place on the other side of the world I will finally feel like I am at home.
I would love to know from any bloggers who live in Brighton or England in general, the hidden places to visit, or from anyone who has visited, where is the best coffee or brunch spot?
Maddison Jayne xo