“Yes”
“Did I have any liquids in my bag?”
“No”
“Did I have any sharp liquids in my bag?”
“NO!” I replied. Her heart wasn’t in it. She looked like she had just woken up from a lifelong coma. We went from one line to another. Passport Control! If I thought check-in was bad, this was as boring as a game of chess. Two hours later, several arguments and an arrest later, we had finally cleared passport control. Once through, I was in heaven, it was like coming out of a court case for murder then wining the national lottery. Duty Free shopping! Or as my mum likes to call it ‘bargain hunting.’ Several shops later, me and my mum, weighed down with shopping, struggled on to the plane like the worlds strongest man weighed down with four 200kg rocks. Take off they say, is the worst of flying. I couldn’t agree more. Your stomach feels compressed with your heart at the top of your neck. I have never been this scared since I first heard of the grim reaper. As the plane took off I thought that my life was over after a long dreaded nightmare. The landing too, that was worse that take off. It was like the pilot had fallen asleep. We all landed with bumps and bruises. Everyone clapped. I’m positive it not because of the landing it’s most probably because they were glad they’re still alive.
We had landed. France the home of the Eiffel tower. When we arrived at my family’s house at midnight, I could see the standing tower lit up in yellow lights from just outside the house. It looked like a smaller version of New York City. It made me feel as if I was in paradise. I heard this loud engine roaring towards the house. There was a loud bang on the door. I was so scared I hid under my mum’s bed. I thought I might need to call the police in case it was an evil intruder. The sound was in fact my uncle’s manager who had come to tell my grandmother that my uncle is to catch the plane from Lyon on the next day, to arrive here in Paris.
The next few days were the days I spent with my uncle were amazing. I got to meet my uncle’s friends and spend some time talking about who he is, but they weren’t giving away any clues as to who he may be. I met all different types of footballers including the famous Christiano Ronaldo. My uncle also shared a special friendship with the French king of pop, Xiavier Charles who has one of the finest voices I have ever heard. He was the only person who would actually tell me who my uncle really was. They have this weird type of dancing involving these orange tap-dancing shoes. My mum said “but, that’s the way the French people dance.” I like to think I can sing in the clubs back home. But they did this one thing that really made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. One of the singers in the club had been hung upside-down from his legs for five hours. He had gone without food or water for this long just to raise £400 for a world renowned charity. My cousin Billy was this fully respected musician who created music using slang-words to describe him and his experiences. Banging. Greazy. Sick. I helped him build a song for a concert that he was going to perform at in the next couple of days. I came up with the chorus. I brought some London style to the song. The song went like this…
#
He started alone, this lonely live,
Given in for adoption ranked number five.
He thought he could hack it but he never knew,
This is Zidane, brova, you have no clue.
You don’t understand he wasn’t thick,
When he first cam out he looked like a chick.
From the beginning he was known as a boy,
His mum gave him away as he was just a toy.
Despite the beginning he grew up big,
This song is played in every gig.
In his childhood he had no chance,
He proved us wrong now plays for France.
Seeing his smile made me wonder why,
Living without him I didn’t cry.
Yes head-butting Materazzi wasn’t right,
But he wasn’t the one to cause the fight.
He’s my famous uncle living with pride,
We’re lucky we found him before he died.
#
The great thing was that Billy promised that we would do a duo with my chorus! The huge day had arrived. I was as brave superman was in last rescue, it was time for the gig and unbeknown to me my uncle would be watching to see my ability in singing and was part of the 6000 strong audience. In fact, I was so brave, even Billy commented on how brave I looked. Every time I spoke my voice sounded like I had just won the lottery. How could I ever have thought that I would be scared to get on stage? Breathe…Concentrate. What’s wrong with you? Since the day I first met my uncle, he has always pointed it out to me, ‘life’s a hurdle, believe in yourself and achieve your dreams.’ This was the lesson for the trip “put your right foot forward, and you what you can” it was either that or I wasn’t going to get the job done! So that’s what I did, I was astonished, all I could say is “I’ve done it. I’ve done it. I’ve done it. I rocked this show. I can become famous doing this.”
So that was my trip to Paris. I had the opportunity to experience a culture that was terrifying yet fascinating. I was greeted by a family that were very warm and very comfortable people to be around. I bought designer accessories I bargain compared to English prices, but the most amazing time for me was, I managed to overcome my fears and delivered an amazing performance in front of over 6000 people. Now that’s something I could become successful in.
