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My love for travel was planted by my grandmother, she loved daring new adventures and when I was younger would accompany her on many such vacations. From New York to Caracas, we were always somewhere. As an adult, the opportunity came for me to leave my country of 1.5 million people to have a new perspective in one that boasted of over one billion. Needless to say, that was frightening because it was not be a temporary stay but more of a travel/ work experience. This was a huge leap I was willing to take to see the other side of the world. Where would I live? Would I make friends? What about the people and the language? And most importantly, what was I going to eat? For there was no way I was going to survive on noodles every day. I was however, pumped and ready. What I was not pumped and ready for was the number of hours I would have to spend in the air, especially going from New York to Beijing (which by the way was the third leg of my journey). Sixteen hours at thirty thousand feet in a tin box called Air China did not seem like the wondrous adventure I was about to have, but their service was really good. Arriving in Beijing I had no concept of time and was in dire need of a shower as even between my toes were sweating. At the airport was my first look at how different life was here. Not one of the kiosks were willing to take my US dollar currency to purchase food. I had to pay using Chinese Renimbi. Luckily I found someone who spoke English and was willing to exchange ten dollars. After another three hour flight I made it to my final destination of Chengdu, the Home of the Pandas. Chengdu according to locals was a much slower paced city than Beijing or Shanghai, but as a professional slow walker, these residents still moved too fast for me! This entire city was new to me being at least a foot taller than the average person brought with it its own challenges and many moments I was a Hollywood celebrity being stopped for photos , most of them largely unsolicited. I understood however we were both the same. Me being here and them seeing me we were virtual unknowns coming into contact with each other every day. What would life in Chengdu be without mention of the infamous Sichuan Hotpot. A bubbling pot of Szechuan peppers, seafood, meats, vegetables, duck blood, pig brain and tofu, that feeds eight persons or more who select what they want directly from the pot using chopsticks. This was an experience I would never take part in! Sharing food from the same pot at the same time? No way Jose!However after my first try, I must admit it was an all-expense paid trip to flavourtown. I was happy to see that in Chengdu we both appreciated to use of hot spice in food. This was not the only dish that literally changed my life. The heavily spiced grilled lamb, which I have to call by its righteous name ‘yangrou shaokao’ was a staple in my diet. I would eat this maybe three times a week, either on its own or some form of bread (mian bao). Another similarity I found was the array of street food vendors and snacks that were available. I developed a love for grilled eggplants, lotus hearts and green scallions. Yes even scallions are spiced and grilled. Amazing, right?! But oh so delicious!I even found great pizza in China via Mike’s Pizza in Tongzilin (shout out to the ginger that runs that little piece of heaven on earth , Nick) and delectable barbecue at Homeplate (a must on a Monday night for half price burgers). The Irish pub Shamrock that was lovely every Monday for karaoke where I would be singing my favourite Lizzo masterpiece ‘Truth Hurts’ in keys that are forever lost. China started was a giant leap into the unknown. New foods, culture, language; but China has given me memories and forever friends in a world where friendship is hard to find.