Tintin and the City

Eighteen years ago, I was one of those people who wanted to visit places that I only ever saw on television so I could say that I have been there. One reason was because my idea of a holiday at that time was rest- meaning exploring a place was not high on the itinerary, but staying in a hotel most of the day was. It wasn't until my first trip to Paris sometime in 2003 that I realised that "being in a place" meant I had to wake up early to see sights, walk and/or take public transport to get there and learn at least a thing or two about the place. To say the least, I was quite lazy and ignorant. I wasn't cultured enough to bother about what went on with the rest of the world around me. Thankfully, I was somehow forced to see the world and so now, I have better intentions when I travel.  Traveling for me now means escaping from my normal routine to learn more about myself and other people, including the people I am traveling with. Traveling have helped me overcome

As a part of my routine reflection, I often ask myself why am I still where I am - personally and professionally. My personal life has been far from perfect, but I believe that I am exactly where I am meant to be. In fact, the last few weeks have been quite tough, but I will not have my life any other way. Professionally, it has been a massive roller coaster ride since day one. It has been very draining, physically and emotionally. To be quite honest, I don't know how I survived the first 15 months at work. I didn't have any managerial experience, let alone experience in dealing with challenging people in the work place, and all I did in my first year of tenancy at work was exactly that. Saying that though, I've had plenty of  experience in dealing with challenging people personally, so perhaps that was my weapon because seventeen months later, I am still here standing on my two feet fighting really hard to make things work. Is the fight really worth it though? Yes I bel

My memory of my first ever trip to Dublin some 15 years ago is such a blur that all I remember is standing outside Malahide Castle on a cold, wet and dark winter night, reluctantly having my photograph taken by someone I didn't even consider my friend at that time. The second time was all about St Valentine's relics at the Whitefriar Street Church with someone romantic but completely out of my life now. The last time I went to Dublin before this recent trip was sometime in 2011, with a group of girls seemingly enjoying my company until I found out that they never liked me in the first place. Suffice it to say that I fell out with everyone I travelled to Dublin with, except for one particular person- Arcel. I first met Arcel in university more than twenty years ago,  but we were only in one class together, and we were never friends. The second time was in Germany, where I would formally meet her. Before our trip to Germany, one of the girls was quite pessimistic and warned