London Journal — Entry 001

Antoine Fortin
6 min readOct 23, 2022


I am now, somehow, getting a bit more acquainted to the London smells, like a mixture of rains, amid flavours of food, beers splatters and endless things to do. I decided to dive in, all in, like 150%, without thinking back, just to step into a void that I could resume as simply an endeavour of my own journey, to escape the loathing of a province I could not fit in, cramped, in endless desires to fly away, to quit, to leave, to make my life away, far, without french, without Montreal, a city I used to cherish.

I could not describe the feeling of leaving, a mixture of a 6 month journey, preparing, anticipating, almost numbing out of vertigo illness. A step in the empty space, a new country, a new continent, where convergence would not suffer a blips of my own feelings towards the endless noise of London’s rain. Unable to find a sense, unable to catch a breath, unable to think, unable to ground, roaming for decency, or at least, a single figure of common sense. I was clamped into the desire to leave. A long journey, from witch I could at least extract some of the desire, the simple feelings of leaving, of falling, trying to put a foot into an endless pit of questions and undesirably rotting uncertainties one could face when leaving.

I decided London, or may I say, London decided me. A glimpse into my life you might have read on my blog will conclude into the simple answer from why this?, because! . I am one of those, the lucky ones that passion drive around, almost without doubt, clear as a shadow on a sunny day. Talking with computers, this is what I do on a daily basis, learning all of those hardware.

London has been part of my passion since my childhood, I once was innocent enough to ask: Why do all gents does not reach London? Then I grew up and realised that all of us are different, variation and deviation from what we consider as normal, or special. Different spectrum of analysis will make x and y be the same, from a current analysis standpoint.

From my naive 27 years old point of view, London seemed like the gap I needed to step in. Without any rules, without any boundaries, without anything, just to leave the nest, to dive and to evaporate with infinity.

This is what, this journal is all about.

Day 0 and 1:

It’s monday, thanksgiving monday. I never properly understood how thanksgiving works in here anyways, so no surprise, I am trying to change some CAD to GBP on a monday, riding my bike, it’s colder than usual. Everything is closing so early on thanksgiving weekend, I am rushing against a clock that already stopped working last friday.

I am scared of the plane, I actually think about choking the whole journey. I am scare to be scared, and this is the worst fear ever. Fearing the fact that something might scare you. I decide to man-up, what wrong can happen? Download a few album to listen on the plane, backed-up podcast, and bake audio book to my phone memory, 56 hours of audio for a 6 hours flight… I might over precocious, but why not, data is free on wifi.

I am rushing, but I am not late. Weird feeling, a race against a clock that is stopped. Nicolas calling me on the phone, making sure he will be drop me at the airport tomorrow. Everything is baked and ready to go, just like the podcast in my phone memories.

Running around my apartment for the 50th time, making sure, just make sure that… I have no reason, I just want to make sure of something. Make sure I have a lift to the airport, make sure I have everything in my, obviously oversized carry-on.

It is now monday, my flight is now in less than 12 hours. There is now way to choke, it would be a shame-parade if I decided to simply stay in here. I am scared as fuck, highly scared, far from being almost ready to dive into the void.

I am not sure it’s the void or the plane that scares me, 6 months of grinding like a monster to actually be able to move away. Now it’s there, Nicolas and Jonathan are driving me to the airport, for them, it’s usual monday, for me, it’s everything I was dreaming of. I cry few tears while in the car, I am sitting front side, just like a co-pilot, Nick is showing us how to not pay for parking at airport, my brain is melting.

Jonathan is telling some wisdom words and phrasing: it is normal to cry baby, you dreamt of that for years.

I could write a book on Jonathan, endless smile, endless positive, just like if any of the problem we could face were a parade hitting solutions. He pat me on the shoulder, while I am crying on the front seat, telling me everything is going to be ok.

I am not sure, Nicolas and him left me at the airport, I am crying, unable to find a common sense. I never took any plane, never left the country and now, I am about to move in to a different continent, different country, different culture. Enter the void, but from now, they left me at the airport, so it is no getting back.

I cry, unable to find my way into all the corridors . I decide to call Nathalie, my aunt that visited more than 45 country in her life, she is The Queen of all airports drama. She been there, she knows the solution. I call her on my last cellphone minutes, crying, wanting to go back home, and she tells me that it is indeed normal to face those kind of moment. We talk a bit, and she puts a smile back on my face. I have been dreaming of this for years, and I am now into the dream, enough to say.

I very cute man helps me register my luggage, once again, trying to fit everything into a carry-on is a mistake. As the glimpse of the past slowly fades into my luggage being eaten by the insatiable luggage machine.

I think about Jonathan, about Nicolas, about Gabriel(that will join me in 2 weeks), about my mother, about Montreal, about Fred, about Nathalie, that helped me pass this first step.

It is now 7PM, my departure is into 3 hours. Will I make it to the airplane? How will I actually deal with all the stress of of flying for a first time? A lot of thing can happen in those 3 hours. But one thing is sure, I am leaving! I cry a lot, from all the stress finally releasing, to thinking about the next chapter of my life.

And there will be a ghost, of a unique individual that might not be suitable for the over-sized carry-on I have packed. I remember the wise words, I cry again. I think of himself, would not be who and where I am today if it was not from it.

Departure is in 45 minutes, and there goes the ghost, almost in silence piercing onto the noisy airport. I look on the left, and do not see him, I cuddle my blue Yoshi, once again, trying to find a sense of what is happening. My blue Yoshi will always be part of my life by the way, without him, I feel alone. I made sure that he could be in my backpack.

For now, it is not time to judge what brings comfort into life, but simply make sure everything is good. Blue Yoshi by my side, the ghost of Jonathan petting my shoulder while whispering endless motivation words.

You are living the dream baby!

Numbing the feeling in my earpods playing music, next thing I know is that I am now sitting in the plane.

There is no way back.



Antoine Fortin

In between Montreal and London, I love to write, read, learn and explore.