London: The Saga

I think it’s often said that excitement can outweigh the actual event when it comes to life. And at first I thought that might be true of moving to London.

I was thrilled. I’d wanted to live in London for years, every time I drove through London I would gawp unashamedly at the mad, eclectic, buzzing, crazy collection of people and buildings and cars and goods that just seemed to dwarf Newcastle. 

I was excited to finally live in the same city as my other half, who has always lived here. To study a subject I’ve always loved. To explore all these amazing places I had read about some more, to really throw myself into London life.

Then I arrived, and I was swallowed up. I was busy trying to make friends at university, studying, finding a job. I did not make the most of the city. I think many people don’t really. When you live somewhere, I think you forget to be excited when you wake up. It just becomes the norm.

But after years and years of dreaming of living here, I refuse to let that happen. I’ve been through a lot in the past year or so, not in a ‘woe is me’ kind of way, but I think it may have helped squashed my bounce a little. But I shall have my bounce squashed no more. Since doing this blog, I have felt more like an explorer…an intrepid discoverer of new experiences in the big city. It has given me structure and pushed me to see more. To spy out the best of the capital…

Yep. The photo may be a bit obvious, but that’s my espionage filled pic of me spying out the capital. Boom.

Any way…I think I’m doing well. I think I’m finally starting to make the most of living here. I’m finally starting to feel like it’s a home, and not some kind of strange, never ending holiday. 

I’m starting to dance to the same beat as Londoners do. When I first got here it was terrifying. I had visited many, many times before then – to see my other half, or friends that also lived here. It wasn’t completely new, but when you’re a visitor, you can kind of sail along and you leave quickly. Immersing myself, that was different. 

There seemed to be secret codes, ways to act that I was unaware of. I didn’t know smiling or eye contact was forbidden. I was completely unaware that – as I mentioned in an earlier post – one has to court death just to cross a London road (crossings are for wimps, it would seem.) It was all new and scary. Like a foreign land, almost. Worse, in some ways. I could get on fine in Tenerife, Madrid and Costa Rica. Having worked in all these places it’s safe to say they didn’t cause me nearly as much grief or difficulty as moving to London did.

But…and this is a big but…now I’ve changed for the better, I think. I’m stronger, more independent and adventurous. I can hold my own, stand up for myself. I’m more confident. I don’t know if it’s London that did that for me, or perhaps just growing up. I just know I love living here, I truly do, and I can’t wait to share some more experiences with you.

And I also wanted to say…thank you. This was all a very long winded, rambling thank you. Blogging has reawoken a love of London that I should never have let go. It’s made me even more passionate about living here than I already was, I think. 

So thank you for reading, liking, or commenting. 

Intrepid London explorer, off for a hot chocolate…