6. London, England

Goodbye, old friend.

This is not your typical blog post.

Everything else that I impart my mildly humorous, reasonably uneducated opinion about will be as such due to the short period of time I’ve spent in that particular location. Some for a week or two, some for less than a day, but none of my other posts will have quite as much weight behind it as this one.

I’ve been living in London – barring a couple of brief stints away – for eight years now. She’s been the longest, most intense, most turbulent relationship I’ve ever had (and that’s saying something), but like any relationship that involves swearing under my breath at men in suits, and having guacamole flung at my face at a bowling alley, at some point it has to come to an end.

As previously mentioned, I’m moving back to the shire to stay with my parents before I start my travels, and during breaks between legs (now I’m thinking about breaking legs of men in suits, very therapeutic). I will, of course, be making occasional visits back to the bright lights and questionable moralities of this great city, but for the most part, I’m done with her. For now.

It’s hard to assign emotions to this change, harder still when most of my thoughts are rapidly dissolving into a child-like excitement at the prospect of discovering what this planet is really all about. Keeping my nine-year-old-self quiet for a second, though, I can start to appreciate how much of a life-changing experience this city, and the people in it, have been to me.

Like any meaningful relationship, she has her faults – and believe me she has them in abundance. Every time someone barges past me to catch a train 60 seconds before the next one is due, or I see a homeless person on the street, or I breathe in the disgusting air pollution, or I can’t buy a ridiculously expensive drink at a bar because the queue is three-deep, I question why I ever came to this over-crowded, over-priced, over-polluted concrete jungle in the first place.

But then, I stand on a bridge with one of my partners at 2 am, admiring the beauty and atmosphere that I’ve never seen anywhere else, and I realise why I fell in love with her. (London, that is, not my partner, I don’t have actual emotions)

For anyone visiting London in the same all-too-brief manner that I will be everywhere else, she’s a fantastic hostess. There are so many things to do, see, eat, and admire, and despite the occasional broken down train or ill-timed strike from melodramatic tube drivers, the public transport system enables you to go wherever you want, pretty much whenever you want, something that’s easily taken for granted.

Little tip though, if you’re reading this and planning on being one of those tourists, don’t bother with the generic attractions. There’s simply no need to spend hours queuing to pay far too much money to experience things such as the Tower of London, or the London Eye (go to the top of the Oxo Tower instead), there are many many other places you can go that are better value for money, and involve less waiting around trying to make decent conversation while your shoes slowly fill with rainwater.

I do worry though. I worry that with all the other cities I’ll be getting lost in over the next year or so, the impact London has had on me will be diminished. I worry that the novelty of it being the only city I’ve lived in will wear off when I see what Los Angeles, Shanghai, Sydney, Dubai, Nice, Moscow, Angkor, Delhi and many more have to offer.

But then I remember that London hasn’t just given me a home for the last eight years, it’s taught me how to grow up*, how to get involved with other people, how to live a responsible life, how to love, and how to appreciate what I have, and don’t have.

It’s these personal moments that define my time here, and it’s why this city, and the people in it (men in suits notwithstanding), will always have a special place in my heart, and my life. It’s why I walk away from her with a heavy heart, not knowing if our relationship will ever be properly rekindled, but knowing it is one I will never forget.


*I still haven’t actually grown up, don’t panic.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s