I got slightly upset this morning when I realised it had been four years since I had been to London. (THANKS A LOT, FACEBOOK.) For a period of several years, I never went more than 12 months without setting foot there, at least for a little while.
And I definitely long for it sometimes. My heart aches at the credits for Peep Show and Sherlock, for fuck’s sake.
But not in a ‘Why don’t I live there?’ way. More of a ‘God, I enjoy existing there for small-to-medium chunks of time’ one.
That is until I win some ridiculous lottery sum; in that case, I’ll just go and be there for a year or two, spend my days wandering, and my evenings at comedy shows and BFI screenings. Heaven might be London without feeling like one’s life savings are perpetually flying out of pockets just by virtue of being with sight/smell of the Thames.
Here are a few previous entries about London, just ’cause.
My terrible introduction to the place Parts 1 and 2 and 3.
One of my favourite entries, from four years ago yesterday.