In November 2015 I returned to my favourite city with the intention of visiting Paris Photo for the first time.  It was a wonderful visit, some of it enjoyed in the happy company of friends.  Unfortunately, on my last night there, fear reigned as the city came under seige from terrorists. I spent the night of 13th November in a small hotel room, alone, following the news and trying to keep in touch with friends and family back at home online, reassuring everyone that I was fine, safe and well in my hotel.  I didn't feel fine; I was afraid, and at the same time, ashamed to feel afraid when others, not so far away, were directly affected.  

The next day, as soon as I had news that my train out of Paris, out of France, was running, I nervously made my way to the station.  Gare du Nord was crammed with people desperate to leave.  Desperate to get home.  Part of me wanted to stay.  Part of me wanted to show Paris, show the world, and the terrorists, that they hadn't put me off being in what was still my favourite city.  But I had a family and friends to return to and school and a million other small commitments.  I will go back to Paris when finances permit.  It is still my favourite city. (And Paris Photo was amazing!)