LIfe is a journey.

This house tells a story about its owners. Enigmatic story of love and struggle, fears and joy, mix of cultures and harmony, family and kids, prosperity and escape, some type of inner treasure and memories. It was full of things: furniture, books, souvenirs, carpets, paintings and each item had its untold story. Moreover, all these made no mess, looked so organic and alluring. It was my first visit to Doris Hanoom’s house in Porthcawl. An English woman married to an Iranian man her life was full of controversies, dramatic stories, journeys from West to East and back, challenges and victories, love and commitment.

I always believed that traveling is about people. Meeting people, experiencing their lifestyle, discovering their philosophy is one of the most exciting and valuable elements of any journey. Way from Cardiff to Porthcawl was less than two hours, but the discoveries it made in one day were infinite.

Missis Doris, 57, typical English looking lady has somehow Oriental charm. When she started telling the story of her life, her inner personality was totally Iranian. She has so much immersed into her husband’s culture. Having learnt so much about my own Eastern culture I could not stop myself from being surprised how much she knew about us and our traditions, and how deep was her understanding and appreciation of it. She told me about early years of marriage when she has been teaching children in Tehran, how they were friends with all local artists and craftsmen (many paintings in the house were gifts from them), how they had to leave the country and move around the UK. Together they had three beautiful children and eight grandchildren. Her husband died few years ago and now Doris Hanoom has been devoting herself to children, community and charities.

She drived me around Porthcawl, a little seaside town with beautiful houses and panoramas, with an impressive coastline where grey English sky meets with the earth, where people go for surfing year round as waiting for the sun is hopeless thing to do. I saw a city through her eyes and habits. I cannot tell which one was more fascinating: city or my blessed guide.

Cooking Sheppard’s pie back home, tasting Cardamom tea and listening to her stories I discovered a whole world for myself. I was amazed by the miracle of life. I realized one more time: Life is a journey. Journey to new people, new cultures, new you. And we never come back the same after traveling.