Your First Steps in Brida.

You arrive, not with luggage, but with a voice – hesitant, maybe, but hopeful.

You step into the town square: Café Conversations. It’s the beating heart of Brida, where stories swirl like steam over coffee cups. You hear voices from everywhere, a person from Bangalore reciting their Haikus, a person from France seeking advice about where to stand in the kitchen, a person from South Korea, excited about their move and new life in Edinburgh. Then somebody turns to you and asks, “What did you dream of as a child?” This is how it begins.

No textbooks. Not tests. Just people. Talking.

From there, you wander into Brida Town, a collection of cosy civic spaces, each dedicated to a special theme.

Meet at the Japanese Tea House to share the Haikus you have written. And comment on what others have created.

Go to the Post Office and drop off a letter to Dear Abby, with some curious problem only she can solve.

Visit the Brida Arts Centre and share the picture you drew in our Art Therapy season.

These aren’t just discussion boards. They are doorways into other lives.

Then, there is the Voice Pavilion – a space that listens.

Step up and speak into the wind: thoughts, questions. Or sit quietly and listen to others. Voices recorded. Lives unfolding. It’s where sound becomes story and story becomes courage.

And then, just around the corner, open from early morning until mid-evening, always warm, are Frank’s and Janita’s Cafés.

Frank is the Mayor – he built Brida with memory and intention. A lifelong traveller, he understands the ache of being foreign and the joy of finally being understood. He listens like a philosopher, speaks like a storyteller, and reminds you that your words – however tangled – are enough.

Janita is the soul spark. Known fondly as Fruitloop, she didn’t build the town, but she felt its heartbeat and came running. South African, fiercely kind, and in tune with the now. She’ll meet you with warmth, curiosity and a deep belief that fluency is born from courage, not correctness.

Some days, you’ll find one of them hosting a conversation. Other days, both. Either way, it feels like sitting down with a friend who believes in you before you believe in yourself.