Leaving London

It’s funny. Whenever I think about the final days of London and what they’ll be like, I am pinched by a feeling of nostalgia. I am a sentimental person at the best/worst of times and I already feel a small sadness when I imagine walking or driving past certain places for the last time.

Living in London has been the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. No physical challenge or trauma could ever compete with the mentally and emotionally debilitating effect the London life has had on me. Perspectives become twisted and shattered like a kaleidoscope of opinions and emotions. Mostly I didn’t know if I was happy, sad, angry, tired or bursting with energy, no doubt all of them at various times, but damned if I know when and at what time. London is not a place to live (for me anyway), it is like a sociological experiment, done by a nine year old boy with a chemistry set who doesn’t want to read the instructions but throw it all in and see what happens (hoping desperately for explosions and puffs of blue smoke). The city has evolved like a patchwork quilt, each patch representing a moment in history or government decision that throws another chemical into the test tube.

London is described as one of the great cities of the world. When I imagine a great city of the world I think of organisation, progress, planning, co-ordination, a distinct and tangible culture that can be taken away and remembered, even a sense of community among the inhabitants of ‘the great city’. Whilst London probably does have some of these features, they certainly aren’t the first things one would note. In fact it is the lack of them that makes London such a remarkable city. My favourite thing about London is the diversity. Nowhere else in the world have I seen the mix of cultures that London has. I imagine somewhere like New York might do, but there would be something different about it – they would be trying to be Americans. It is the non-nationalism of so many of Londoners that I enjoy – you can be a Londoner, but still be Polish, Indian or Portuguese – you don’t have to adopt the stereotypical lifestyle of the country you live in. You can share your culture and people can experience it without needing to leave the city. Which reminds me of the first thing I thought when I arrived here – this really is a global city.

So while I find every day a struggle, the monotony of a rising, working, eating and sleeping in the cold grey grumbling behemoth, I’m not totally unaware of the other colours and flavours dancing around in the belly of this beast and always find myself observing them all, much like that nine year old boy and his chemistry set, quietly hoping for fireworks.