Nobody understands why I’m so protective of my home, nor do they understand why I can’t let go. To them it’s just “down South” and comes with all those connotations built up through word of mouth. But I will never stop loving you. Arriving in St Pancras is like receiving a hug from my family on my first visit home. Walking into the tube is as familiar as waking up every morning. The fumes and commuters don’t bother me for they are like me. The hustle & bustle is a rhythm we all dance to, you’re the ultimate soundtrack to everyday life. You’ve always been there, on school holidays, on bored days, on sad days, you’ve held the promise of fun and opportunity, of Christmas and summer. Life changes but you always stay firm. The rain doesn’t ruin you, nor does a sweaty sun shake you, you remain shining and brilliant always. Couples running into coffee shops under a dripping wet paper, businessmen walking to meetings sweating through their suits, children huddling under umbrellas lining up to go into The Natural History Museum, Best friends holding hot chocolates in the snow. You are idyllic and beautiful, the backdrop to all these stories. Dickins loved you as did Wilde, the great and good adore you. You stand proudly up though war and woe and that is why…I love you so. No where else feels like home to me, no where else greets me with a smile, London you’ll always be the greatest to me, you never go out of style.
“When one is tired of London, he is tired of life” – Samuel Johnson