London Diaries

Thursday, 17 September 2015
How I felt... a lot.

Six months in London. What can I say? 

Well I can say that last month I was so convinced it was six months I tried to convince myself and my boyfriend it was until I actually said to him… “So I got here in March, so one month, twoooo, three, four… five… Oh...” It felt like six. It has felt like forever. But it has also felt like I left yesterday. It feels like yesterday I was trying to fit my life into 23kg’s of bag. Yes that’s all I could bring. It also felt like yesterday where I lived happily on my own and drove a car and NEVER took public transport for fear of death. 

It also feels like yesterday that I had my first night in London. I got lost on my way home. In the dark. No GPS. Naturally I feared getting stabbed or mugged (The South Africa Hangover I like to think of it as)… till I saw a girl, alone, sauntering down (what I thought) was a dark alley, iPod, cell phone and headphones blaring looking at me like I was insane… or escaped from Africa… which I kind of did… Now I walk home at night with not a care in the world. Can you imagine? I have to admit, living in a safe, first world country, swinging from train to sidewalk like a wisp in the night is a wonderful thing. 

I always dreamt of living in London, since I was a little girl. There is an electricity in this place that no other city spills. The old and the new. The creativity. The architecture that is juxtaposed by the nature, I love it! You can never be bored! OH a hedgehog! 
There are always a hundred things to do at any single moment. There are these sites and magazines which come out and tell you what you can explore, not monthly, not weekly, daily! And each one is different. You can walk down the street and find an artist selling his soul all for a penny and a pound. 

My favourite singer in Oxford Circus (I work here!! Wow hey?) is a man who sits with his legs crossed on the street and sings the same haunting song into an orange street cone which he rests on the sidewalk in front of him. What rubbish!? You say? His song is strangely melodic and he is very dirty and his song is very pure and I can hear him from five blocks away and the sound soothes my soul. I love his consistently, I love his brand! I truly will hang around him listening to his mad echo because compared to all the guitars and soapboxes littering London, this street cone songster, stole my heart. And this my darlings, is London. To be continued…


PS. “When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life.” - Samuel Johnson.

I am yet to see a fox, have heard one... scary.


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