I return to London with a healthy glow from a sundrenched week skiing in France. How a week filled with beautiful vistas, joyous days on the slopes, the blissful feeling of the sun penetrating my skin and lingering sunsets can make my return to London’s endless winter seem a particularly hard blow to take.
Back for the final push to the end of this my stubborn and seemingly endless first English winter, I find myself willing springs arrival, as a child wills Christmas day to come. Waiting impatiently for all the joy and special moments of such an event, I am growing relentless to feel the sunshine against my face once again, to see the trees turn to blossom and for the city to be filled with renewed hope and green tree lined streets. How I wish to put away my winter boots, gloves and heavy cumbersome jackets. I want the freedom of the warmer months to arrive and bring with it, my happy disposition which disappeared sometime back in January, in the deepest depths of the cold, grey, misery.
London...the strange place where the sun forgets to shine, a little planet unto itself. A micro-community so diverse you could at times mistake yourself for being in almost any country in the world. Who knew I could live a life without being surrounded by nature, without beaches to escape to, sand and surf, without sunsets or beautiful vistas. It’s not until you leave London, do you truly begin to comprehend exactly what this all consuming city doesn’t give to its dwellers.
But the one thing this city has given me is a place to call home. It has gone some way to giving me the happiness and contentment I was searching for, allowing me to rest my travellers feet, unpack my suitcases and enjoy the people around me. To settle and enjoy the mundane again. But London and I would never be friends forever. London and I would never be at peace with each other, we would always be having an argument. I don’t understand its essence and it doesn’t understand or appreciate mine. It seems I have made a mutual agreement with London; we don’t understand each other, yet me tolerate each other’s attitudes.
And since I have now given a years’ worth of rent, plus council tax and transport costs to this city I feel I am at liberty to tell you how I really feel about London. From my first impressions, observations and experiences of London, I feel I have justified my right to express my attitudes towards this rich, iconic Mecca.
My first observations of London were taken from the view of my window seat on the 452 bus. My journey to and from work each day, through Notting Hill, High St Kensington, past the Royal Albert Hall and Hyde Park, through Knightsbridge, past Harvey Nichols and the shops of Sloane Street, over the Thames by way of the Chelsea bridge, alongside Battersea Park to my first home in Clapham, I watched as London happened around me. What struck me most severely was the cut throat nature of its inhabitants. Everyone seemed to be beating to the sound of their own agenda; determined to the point of being mean about it. I quickly learnt that only the strong, savvy and opportunistic make it in London.
It’s a place that drives you. You can’t be lazy in London, because it won’t let you. London demands the best of everything, including its inhabitants. It’s not a second class city; only the best make it and survive. Those that try, yet fail, usually fall by the wayside or get eaten up and spat out by its fast and relentless pace.
Everyone is striving for something, someone, someMORE. Never content, you can see it in people’s faces, by the way they walk. The march of the London pavements oozes an awe of success, money, ambition and drive. It’s harsh, draining and relentless in its daily challenges.
Yet everyone wants a piece of London, to be where the action is, part of the hype and bustle of such a notorious place. To capitalise, to network, to feel a part of something bigger and better, to walk the streets with celebrities, to taste the opulence and history of its long standing endurance.
Like any city, London forces you to take the good with the bad. Such a double edged sword that swings both ways almost on an hourly basis. From the escapism of the theatre to the annoying and disruptive tube strikes, to the vast choice of everything you could ever wish for, to the incredible expense of it! To the wonderful location and proximity to mainland Europe and other desirable travel destinations, to the lack of any beauty or sunshine it gives to those that can’t escape its hollows. Living in London is never a win, win situation, but a constant fight to survive.
If I could go back to the simple, uncomplicated life of a ski resort or my siesta filled days of Tuscany, maybe I would, but for right now, London is teaching me patience, ambition, sacrifice, compromise and drive. And that’s why I am choosing to call it home, for now.
