There are moments when culture shifts from something we inherit to something we truly feel – and often, that happens through travel. Stepping beyond the familiarity of home can be disorienting, but it also opens us up to new ways of seeing the world and ourselves.
The CF team shares their personal stories of first encounters with culture, whether returning “home”, discovering somewhere entirely new, or reminding ourselves of our own. Each story reflects how stepping into another world has opened our eyes, deepened our understanding, and left a lasting imprint on who we are.
Sheena Bhattessa, Founder
“I have spent my entire life in London, shaped by a distinctly British identity, even though my family’s roots trace back to India by way of East Africa. For my parents and siblings, that East African connection felt tangible – they had lived it. For me, it was distant, almost inherited rather than experienced. That was until I was seven years old, when I took my first trip to India. I still remember arriving at Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj International Airport in Mumbai. The moment I stepped off the plane, it felt like an immediate and overwhelming awakening of the senses – colours, sounds, heat, movement, all rushing toward me at once. It was intense, almost disorienting, especially as a child who, in every practical sense, felt like a foreigner. And yet, nothing about it was truly unfamiliar. The language being spoken around me was the same one I knew (and spoke) at home. The food, the gestures, the rhythms of daily life – they all belonged to me in some quiet, inherited way. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was both part of it and separate from it at the same time.
What struck me most were the children my age – so similar to me, yet living entirely different lives. They moved through the world with an ease and belonging that I didn’t yet feel, despite sharing the same cultural threads. That contrast stayed with me. Over those four weeks, during the Christmas holidays, something shifted. India stopped being an abstract idea tied to family stories and became something real, lived, and deeply felt. For the first time, I experienced what it meant to be Indian not just within the walls of my home, but out in the world – visible, shared, and alive in everyday life. That experience left a lasting imprint on me. It gave me a deeper understanding of my identity and a profound appreciation for my culture – one that I alway carry, but had never fully seen until then.”
Katie Silcox, Managing Editor
“For me, experiencing different cultures started at home. As a child my mum hosted countless students from abroad, all of who were in the UK to learn English. Some would stay two weeks, some would stay nine months or more – but each and every person taught me something about their home, their culture, and their traditions. Many of them would also bring gifts for us to learn about. By the age of 12 I’d made origami and learnt to count to 10 in Japanese; drunk Argentinian yerba leaves from a mate; eaten tiramisu in the garden, home-baked by a family from Venice; and figured out where India, Bangladesh and Nepal are on the world map with the help of a lady from Dhaka. At this point my family holidays consisted mainly of France and Italy, but the cultural experiences at home were unmatched, and definitely set me up for a lifetime of curiosity about the world.”
Becki Murray, Beauty & Wellness Director
“I was extremely lucky to spend a lot of my childhood immersed in different cultures through family holidays, but it was a far more recent moment, on a trip to China, that made me realise I’d never really thought about my own. Standing in the remote foothills of Lijiang, I was the only white face around. In fact, to be more accurate, I was the only red face there. Luckily, not due to sunburn (though I’m prone to that too), but because of my increasingly embarrassed refrain of ‘sorry, I’m English’, as I tried to navigate my group’s rapid Chinese. My first reaction was a feeling of total otherness. But then a thought hit me and I couldn’t help but ruefully smile: how very British of me to apologise in that moment for, what else but, not knowing the language. Brits are hardly renowned for their ability to assimilate after all. But, while I might not have felt ‘proud’ to be British in that moment, it did remind me of all the aspects of my upbringing that do bring me joy: the way I’ve picked up my Northern dad’s need to acknowledge every stranger who walks past him (even on the tube), or the fact my love for history clearly stems from the desire to visit buildings that are centuries and centuries old. In that moment, miles away from everything familiar, I realised that sometimes our own identities aren’t immediately obvious to us until they are placed into contrast. And that’s the benefit of travel. It not only gives you an appreciation of the new cultures you are experiencing around you, but helps you recognise what makes you ‘you’ too.”
Rachel Story, Style & Commerce Director
“I grew up in a small village in the Shropshire countryside, where I could walk to my primary school, and most of my childhood was spent outdoors with the families who lived either side of us. We were all similar ages (and they were cousins), so we moved freely between each other’s gardens, with gates built into the fences so we could come and go, playing on hay bales and in the fields. It was an idyllic childhood, and one I wouldn’t change for the world, but I wasn’t particularly exposed to different cultures. That definitely changed in my twenties when I visited Gal Oya National Park in Sri Lanka, where some of the last indigenous Veddha people still live. We walked into the forest with one of the elders, who guided us barefoot, with a translator alongside him.
He showed us plants used to treat colds, leaves that could be crushed to heal cuts, and roots with properties to treat various ailments, sharing a knowledge and a deep connection to nature and the land that had been passed down through generations. This was the first time I felt fully immersed in a completely different way of life that was such a stark contrast to my own upbringing. It was a really special experience and I felt privileged to have been shown their way of life – one that completely eschewed the modern world.”
Ella Alexander, Fashion Features Director
“I grew up in a very small village in rural Kent, so any big trip outside of that felt like a dazzling adventure. We had a lot of family in London, who used to host big parties, and even the car journey up felt exciting. My mum used to talk us through the sari shops, shisha restaurants and various Indian grocery shops as we drove past; it made the world feel so much bigger – London still feels like that to me now. I remember trying to keep my eyes open for as long as possible on the way home so I could see more of the lights and the different things in the windows. It was so exciting to me. The other introduction to culture was on family holidays to France. My great aunt and uncle had a holiday home in the south-west of France, and every year, we’d drive down and spend two weeks eating baguettes, cheese and pates. I remember the French markets where vegetables just looked so much more colourful, and the ice creams more exciting. It was my first experience of long Mediterranean long lunches, something I always treasure whenever I’m abroad.”
Bibiana Obahor, Head Of Graphic Design
“My grandmother left the UK in the 80s to return to Nigeria. When she finally came back, a few years after I was born, I was very small, but I remember the day quite clearly. She arrived dressed head to toe in traditional Nigerian attire: a buba, the flowing blouse, worn with an iro wrapped at the waist and a gele tied high at her head. She filled the house with Nigerian food and sang gospel songs, in a language that somehow still felt familiar. I hadn’t grown up in Nigeria, I’d never even been, but in that moment and every moment since, I felt entirely connected to it. That’s the thing about culture: it doesn’t require you to physically be somewhere specific. My grandmother carried hers with her, and she passed it to me in that afternoon. The colours, the food, the music, the warmth, it all became part of how I understood myself. I’ve been grateful ever since that she chose to bring it back with her, and that she made sure I knew where I came from, even when I was too young to fully understand.”
Courtney Griffiths, Head of Community & Experiences
“Every summer, we would visit my grandparents in Silves, a medieval city in southern Portugal. Just outside the city was their village with about 300 habitants, a train station that ran the length of the Algarve, one shop, three local bars, and a huge concrete football pitch. At around 7pm each evening, the village would come alive. Women sat outside together drinking coffee, men went to the bars for port and beer, and all of the children ran around the streets playing games. We stayed out until gone 11pm, even on a ‘school night’, something that felt very exciting at the time. I remember learning why – the siesta! In the height of the midday heat, everything shut for 3 hours and everyone went home to sleep. It made space for longer, slower evenings spent together. It was my first glimpse of a different pace of life, and I loved it!
Each year we returned and the same children would be waiting. They remembered me and my brothers as ‘the English kids’ – our arrival marked the start of summer. They taught us Portuguese, showed us their games, and there was a nightly (very competitive) football match between the boys. This was before phones or social media when friendships were built in person, and picked back up exactly where they left off, summer after summer. We are still all loosely connected now through Facebook, but those summer memories will always stick with me.”
Zana Wilberforce, Cultural Contributor
“For all the complaining I do about London’s transport delays and endless grey weather, I know deep down that I’m lucky to come from such a multicultural city. My understanding of culture is deeply rooted in my upbringing here, where you can go from Streatham to Soho in a single day and experience such a wonderful mishmash of languages and cultures coming together.
Call me biased, but London is the best city in the world for that reason! My dad is from Northern Cyprus, so traditional Cypriot and Turkish cuisine are also intrinsically linked to my first instances of culture. Lentil soup, lahmacun (a type of Turkish pizza), sütlaç and çay (rice pudding and tea) are pure comfort and keep me connected to my family’s heritage and culture.”
We may earn a commission if you buy something from any affiliate links on our site.
Lead photo credit: Gene Brutty via Unsplash
Any Questions or Tips to add?