#186: Crazy London
Crazy crazy London.
Sarah and I left London in November last year.
With a van packed full of our stuff, it was initially a 2 month holiday from the big city.
As of yet, we haven’t returned.
I have visited since then and last week I was in London for 2 days.
I got there and it was raining, grey skies and hostile umbrellas.
I felt like the city didn’t want me there, it was trying to spit me out. When it rains in London, it pours. The cars splash, the buses get angry and the buildings loom over like your trapped in a glass snow globe. 'I hate this place' I thought. 'Get me out of here.'
The following day the weather was glorious. I got the Thames Clipper to central London for my first meeting. Careering down the Thames on my way to meet someone in The City; ‘It doesn’t get better than this’ I said to myself. 'I love it here. I could move back here definitely.'
London is extreme.
As I got off the train from Stoke and entered the Underground I was instantly in contact with more people than I had been in the last 2 weeks. Were there a thousand people on my one train? Did I walk past ten thousand people in that one day? I don’t know, I feel like I could have.
And the noise, my goodness it’s loud. Sirens, cars, trains, mopeds, people in suits talking business loudly on the phone. I felt like I was in The Matrix.
I was in a bad mood. The city didn’t want me here and I didn’t want to be there. I’d spent £8.50 on lunch and been underground for almost 2 hours of the day travelling. 'I’m done with this place.'
Then, night fell and as the weather changed so did my mood. The city skyline unfolded before me with the backdrop of a crisp blue sky.
There is profound beauty and rich history all around. I stood for 5 minutes marvelling at St Paul's Cathedral, a building I might have walked past quickly before.
I walked slowly through the streets taking in as much as I could. The architecture, the diversity, the creativity was literally dripping from every street corner.
I felt grateful to be there, thankful for all the amazing people that came before us to build such a brilliant world. I burst with excitement at the choice all around me. 'Where to go for lunch?' Options galore! £8.50 is a bargain for the quality of food I just ate, I’d get this nowhere else.'
In London, I’m extreme.
My mood follows the ebb and flow of the city itself. I’m addicted to it’s stimulation. I walk faster than I normally would, I think more, my minds burgeons with ideas. 'I must create. I must work. I must do '
Then, as an antidote I might do a floatation tank, go to a hot yoga class or get a massage. Something polar opposite to bring me down and level me from my extreme high.
Is London crazy or am I crazy when I am there?
Certainly the city is warped with eye watering wealth, purpose built housing and homelessness all on the same street.
You can see desperation, sadness and a frenzied intensity in people’s eyes.
Yet you see things, people and ideas that you might see nowhere else and that’s the draw.
London is like no other place in the UK, it is like it’s own country. The difference is stark.
I love the place and feel quite protective of it. I bristle at people I meet who seem to enjoy pointing at it’s frailties. I never want to be the person that only comments on the price of a pint or how “you can get so much more for you money up North”
Yet the contradiction defeats me, because the economics of London are one of the reasons I feel driven from the place. On another day I might look at London as a tax haven for the global elite and feel sickened by it’s ostentatious displays of wealth.
I sit in a London coffee shop thinking about the £2,000 a month rent it might cost to live in a Zone 1 one bed flat and I wonder what 'What are we all doing here?'
Then I remember a time when the answer to that question felt obvious to me. I sat in the same coffee shop thinking why on earth people wouldn’t live here and chase their dreams. 'There is so much opportunity here.'
I find there is judgement of life in London and judgement in London of life outside of it. The two lifestyles are so stark that it can be difficult to see the other side.
I see both sides and I’m wrestling with both ways of life. The one in London that I have seen nowhere else in the world and the one outside of London which might be known as more “normal”
I’m not sure I’ll be able to go back to live in that city full time. The environment doesn’t bring out the best in me.
In London there is always more, there is never enough and that brings out a dark side of me. The part that also always wants more, that is always seeking, always searching. There’s a value to that, not every waking hour though.
I find the financials oppressive too. The money needed to be made to acquire a certain quality of life is much higher, that creates pressure and expectation. There was a time when I thrived under that pressure, when I loved it and was inspired by it. Now I’m curious what it’d be like to live a life where “enough” is less expensive.
I’m hoping me and London can still be friends. I’d like to have London as a mentor, an Uncle I see every now and then for a wholly different perspective. A place that I might enjoy at my leisure.
As I write I remember that being in London, it felt both like a place I would never leave and a place I would never escape. I both yearned to be there and yearned to leave, all at the same time.
In leaving, I was in part checking myself to feel whether I’d be drawn back. Whether London would come calling.
There’s been no call. Instead, I feel called elsewhere.
To beyond.
Poem of the week - Dear London by Simon Armitage.
Song of the week - London Calling by The Clash
Frighteningly good
Love you Mum.
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I write every week. A new blog post, poetry, reading resources and a creative journal of what I may or may not work on next.