For me London was something that as soon as it happened, I wished I had it done years before. Far and away my biggest love affair so far has been with this city. Back in 2014, 25 years old and fresh of the tube from my tiny little village in the shire I went striding out into Canary Wharf for the first time as green as you like. A small town girl who had, as the nitty lil ditty on the homepage of this blog describes: spent her days in a small village down south and mostly settled down in long relationships. Single and largely bored with tiny-town life I had gotten the call for the job in London and run off too the interview like the wind. (Or at least as fast as my shiny new oyster card could take me)
There are so many moments that haven't been included in these posts and the past three years up in LDN changed me. Now as dramatic as this sounds....I couldn't really care. London (or big city life) isn't for everyone. And I would gladly read anyones blog about why they love where they live. This is all that counts when you strip everything down.
What moves you?
What gets you going?
What fills your heart with those little flutters?
What gets that heat kicking off in your tummy?
Maybe it's your job, your kids, your kitty kat or your partner, your home?
For me being a pringle was a huge factor in this why I reckon I fell so hard for the City. When you are in a happy relationship your partner is exactly that - Your other half. For me it is that person you have chosen to trust - the one you tell a lot of your secrets too. They are the other member of your A-team and they share you successes, your hidden fears and your in-jokes. When you are single you have your friends and your family.... but your freedom is endless....
Had I been with someone back home would I have of moved here? Prolly not. Not unless he had been up for running free with me too.
But with no kids and no one to answer to the City became my mistress. Always offering me new treats and whispering: YES Tink -go there, do this, try that, dance here, play - DO IT.
Striding out over the bridge across the river Thames for that interview on a warm sunny September morning I still remember looking up at the concrete jungle around me thinking: FUDGE ME. Back home it's all fields and cute little pubs. The village shop and a 40 min drive to the harlequin in Watford for decent shoesies. But here? It was swarming with endless streams of posh suits and well cut work dresses - clicky heels striding around the Wharf like they owned life in amongst all the skyscrapers.
And I wanted in. Underneath the warren of the tube station at Canary Wharf is an award winning shopping centre with all the designers you could wish to lust over. And an endless and ever expanding selection of places to munch in and "do lunch" It sure as sh!t beat the cafe in my last office in the shire. London life in the financial district was such a contrast to (what I felt was) the suffocatingly slow and shabby pace of things back home.
I fell hard for how switched on LDN was. It was like walking into a tinderellas idea of heaven: Glamorous, endless events and restaurants and rivers to sit by in the sun, thousands of new people around to meet, 100s of shops to buy all the things a girly girl on a (now decent) salary could ever want. The lastest hair and beauty products? they were selling it here first. Everything was on tap - airports to fly out from on holidays were now only a short tube ride away. Every night and day there was something new and cool to do in your free time. Even the gyms were sexy and my nearest one had views on the top floor that were used in the last James Bond film.....if you like that kind of life then I would dare you not to get sucked in.
I mean there were so many rooftop bars it took me the whole three years of being here to do all the ones in my post code. Back home everyone knows everyone. Every guy comes with a past (and an ex) that you will know about. Or someone you know will know about. It's all so connected and pretty impossible to move without seeing someone you are connected to in some way. Not my London though. It was like a blank page for me to scribble pretty stuff across. And I did. #NotEvenSlightlySorry
It wasn't all sparkly cocktails, hot boys and sun loungers on the top floor of the designer gym though. There's public transport and stuff. Was I sneezed on square in the face riding the rails? and was I unable to reach for a tissue to wipe another commuters snot off my cheek as I was so squished in the train carriage? Uh-huh. You try holding your breath for three stops...
Have I have a random creeps' hard on pressed against my ass or tummy or thigh? Unfortunately more than once.
And have I smelt someone else's BO so hard I could taste it. Sure. OH THE JOYS OF TFL.
And if I was ever silly enough to find myself in tourist-town (oxford street and co) in peak times - did it make me wanna scream?
Hell Yeah.
I Actually hate crowds. I will only shop in a real life shop (if I havent ordered it online already) first thing in the morning (in-and-out-done) And I have frequently taken a day off work if I needed to go somewhere really busy to avoid the shoving and associated shite that comes being stuck in a busy crowd
The cramped conditions and stress of so many people are what a lot of out of towners think London is - I used to be one of them. Back in the shire all you will hear is "Landan? fudge that it makes your snot black!"
But the city is so much more than that. It's enormous and staying out the well known tourist zones is, IMO the best part of being here. There are endless possibilities for the unexpected, and chances for adventures on every corner. So much to be found out of central or even in unknown roads around central. London basically made up of a load of little neighbourhoods and each has it's own zeitgeist and treats. It was like being on holiday except you knew the language and didn't have to change any currency up, especially in summer.
The essence of London for me is that little whisper of magic on every corner that leads you into the best kind of trouble.
Now I admit it's not all awesomeness - aside from overcrowding it's expensive. Like EVERYWHERE. If you can purchase a cocktail for under £10 you will feel as rich and as if you have been for a weekly shop in Lidl that came in at under £20. Rent is astronomical. ASTRO. NOM. IC.AL.
Even in a shIt part of town with a long ass hard-on/puke ruddled commute your rent will annihilate your bank account. But if you manage to catch a job paying well then it's just fun.
If the cost of London living isn't enough to put you off the homelessness will have you trippin. I'd had a bit of a shock when I was flat-hunting in LDN that first year. I was checking out Bethnal Green as a potential new neighbourhood (bang in the heart of East London, super close to Stratford, the Wharf and walking distance to Shoreditch so it was totally on my radar) And on my way to my first viewings I came up out on to street level from the tube - I was in my pale pink duster coat, clutching a baby pink iPhone 6 trying to get wifi for directions to the estate agents, holding onto a Teddy B carrier bag containing my new purchases. (I know this is totally spoilt behaviour but its my blog and its what happened so #NotSorry #WorkedHardForThatPaper) I basically looked like a lost-blonde-pink-marshmallow-brat, and an almost entirely toothless woman had pounced instantly and held on to my arm asking intensely for a fiver.
My experience of homeless people back home is very different. Everyone who grew up near my local shopping centre will remember this one guy (nick-named after the vegetable the same color as his hair) RIP.
He would sit under the cash machines opposite sports direct and sing songs or tell jokes for money. It was always sad, and everyone knew he had a flat on the social round the corner and making donations to him was almost as standard as dropping coins in the machine for parking.
But in London homelessness is TOTALLY Ghetto. And in Bethnal Green the poor lady I encountered is a regular. As she saw the phone in my hand her eyes lit up and she followed me into a shop where I hid amongst the crisps as she hovered outside. When I posted about this on FB I was advised by a Londoner in the comments that I wasn't in Kansas anymore. And he was right.
Now my view on homelessness is massively sympathetic. You never know what will happen to you in your life. A dude was found dead in the river back home and was ID'd as an ex pro-footballer who got wrapped up in the booze and ended up in an awful way. Homeless people need help and if you lost your job and had no family around, especially living in a big city you really aren't as far away from it as you think.
There is nothing more sobering than running round town like a little madam loving life and then spotting someone in a doorway out the corner of your eye, just dying away quietly. Some will aggressively beg, which makes me uncomfortable but its more because I know giving money won't fix the problem. It will just go on fags or booze or worse. As you stand outside the bars In Mayfair having after-work drinks, women holding babies wrapped in dirty blankets will come up and ask for money. In Soho some of them dress in ratty christmas hats over the festive period and do the same thing. In the Wharf there are always people sat on the bridge as you rush to and from the office, and sat in sleeping bags beside the Hilton.
On a friday, I would sometimes take down the left over krispy kremes or Lola's cupcakes from our team treat feasts after work and hand them to the woman who was always sat outside the Tesco metro under our office block. She would never say anything except "have you got a spare cig?, and sometimes I think she looked at me like "wheres the money you spoilt b!tch" but she would always eat em. A lot of people I know who live in London do this and one of the princesses always gives any one she passes her spare change. Some people I know buy them sandwiches from Pret, or coffees from Starbucks. I've done this countless times. Walked out the shop feeling excited for my drink and seen someone looking like London had kicked the shit out of them and not being able to walk past without putting it down. Even typing this I feel like a jerk. What's a coffee gonna do huh?
My point is, at that time I was completely sheltered to how big of a deal this is any big City, and back then this woman had freaked me the fcuk out. Getting directions and my bearings in the shop I made a run for the estate agents. It was literally across the road from the tube exit and as I walked in the door of their office the guys turned and said
"oh (lets call her) Donna got you didn't she? - we saw it" and they chuckled.
"Yeah. She really" did I said
If you are actually concerned and want to help - this is as good a place as any to start http://www.thefelixproject.org/help-us/
In the early days"Donna" wasn't the only thing that opened my small town eyes to the city. Of the three apartments I saw that evening, the best on offer wanted me to buy my own white goods. "Oh sure, Darell, yeah why wouldnt I bung you £1,400 a month for a one bed smelling like chip fat and then kit it out with a whirlpool?" But this is another story and another thing that anyone who lives in London will gladly bore your head off with. And it's totally not just in Bethnal Green. #LondonWide
The City for me aside from all the goodies on offer was the people. There were the requisite weirdos, on a larger scare than you find in smaller towns but only because of the greater proportion of the population. People are the same wherever you are. In London there is more diversity than back home for sure, and as lonely as it could feel at times there was this huge sense of belonging for me. What ever you wanted to do - how ever you felt, you would find a whole heap of kindred spirits up for it too. Eating out alone was also a big thing I came to enjoy. Working late in the summer or getting up for brunch and heading to an open air restaurant and asking for a table for one too enjoy some tasty munch in the sun - no one batted an eyelid. Back home you would of probably been shamed into going home with a takeaway. But in london it was just as normal as you like. I felt so free and at home in that city and will always be grateful for my time there and I'll always keen for a trip back up to my gurl.
Oh and did I mention there were some hot men?
....So I moved back home to the shire two months ago for a new job, and when that didn't work out I caught another one. So in four days I am heading off up north for some #NewAdventures #WhatsShakinManchester.
I am still about 3 months behind on the date posts. There's plenty to come about how the guys have been since I got back to the shire. A lot had changed in my three years away. And if you are still reading then I will be sure to let you know what the dudes are like up North.....
1) London? The answer is always yes.