Right now, I’m sitting in London and looking at a quote, “The man who tires of London tires of life. For there is in London all that life can afford.” Samuel Johnson.
I’m not so sure Samuel, I’m not so sure. I feel a constant pressure to love London and I simply don’t. Could I continue living here? Yeah. Do I want to? Not really.
So many of my friends LOVE LOVE LOVE London and I simply don’t. I can’t put my finger on it and I really wish I could. There is an awful lot that is very charming about London and I do enjoy the pace of life. For example–the Black Taxis. How can you not love the spacious seating, the clean cars, and the knowledgable drivers. The drivers who apprenticed for five years before getting their license. Wow.
And the height of the city. No, not the inhabitants, but the buildings. The Res Hall towers at 10 stories. Oxo Tower, on the Thames, is only eight stories. Even if someone is on the top floor of their apartment complex, they are probably only on the third or fourth floor. Very nice.
It also seems that you are always near the river. Maybe it is just the areas of the city I have explored, but the Thames twists and turns and everyone seems to be within walking distance of the Thames path. And the buses really are double decker, the phone booths really do look like that, and the bobbies (Police) are really quite charming as well.
But there is still something missing that I can’t put my finger on. Something that has made me click with other cities instantly. La Plata, Tokyo, Rome, Chicago, San Francisco and Ames, Iowa. Maybe I don’t want to click with London and have had my heels dug in this whole time. Maybe, maybe, maybe. For the next five weeks I pledge to undig my heels and try to have a better relationship with London.