“Go where we may, rest where we will, Eternal London haunts us still.”

Thomas Moore pretty much had it spot on when he wrote Rhymes on the Road, which included this little gem.
London is all consuming; it permeates your soul, it's rich with culture, personality and vitality. Every second spent in London is a second I have cherished, and no doubt every second spent away will be a second aching with longing.
Today I made the trip from my little dingy flat through the icy fog into the city to spend a few hours at Senate House Library. I sat at my desk for about 2 hours and wrote 1000 words about The Sublime. After that I began to feel restless, and peering out the window all I wanted to do was wander aimlessly around the city that I have fallen so deeply in love with over the last 5 months.

It really was incredibly cold today, and whilst my hands were numb and my lips frozen solid, I trailed through the streets of London. Coffee in one hand, shitty little android phone in the other. (So, apologies for the poor quality photos, I didn't have my Nikon on me today-these will just have to do)

I suppose listening to my "london playlist" really didn't help the situation, but I felt an odd mixture of nostalgia, melancholy and utter awe as I walked past buildings I have walked past a hundred times without looking twice, or sat in gardens I have only ever used as short-cuts. Sometimes it is not only important to take a few hours out to yourself, but it is necessary. I only have five days left before I go home and I want to soak up every little piece of London that I can.
I sat on a bench in Bloomsbury square wandering to myself if there was anything I would do differently if I were given the time again, or if there was anything I regretted. Quite simply, the answer is no.
I have done everything I could, should and wanted to do...of course, there's a list about a thousand miles long of things that I haven't done yet and in reality, probably won't be able to do, but I don't get sad at that thought. Rather, it is an incentive to return.

Over the last five months I have collected a psychological library of memories.

The very first day, I arrived by bus from Oxford and got into a little black taxi. The driver's accent was cockney thick and we spoke about his son, and his desires to be an artist. He turned off the meter and drove me through the city of London, pointing out landmarks and the best pubs in town. I had forgotten about him until today when I saw a girl my age lugging 2 large suitcases into a taxi as the driver helped her, tipping his cap.

Or there was that time that I had to take myself to the hospital following a bad fall on a dance floor the night before. I didn't know it at the time, but I was hobbling through East London in the pouring rain with ripped tendons. Awful at the time. Hilarious upon reflection.

I drank cocktails out of teapots and I learnt that scotch whisky blend is not my friend, but is a truly perfect ice-breaker.

I danced in the kitchen to Macklemore, in an underground bar to The Cure, in a grungy pub to The Beatles and in a confusing Brick Lane club to incoherent mash ups of techno and Frank Sinatra.

I drank Pimms in Hyde Park whilst watching adorable babies chase butterflies and lovers paddleboat on  the lake.

I celebrated Guy Fawkes night, and made an absolute fool of myself on tower hill bridge.

I wandered through the halls of world famous galleries and museums, and looked at some of the most breathtaking art I have ever...and probably will ever, see.

I trawled through endless markets, spent too much money on vintage clothing and ate too much food from international cuisine stalls.

I had bagels at 2am more than once.

I made friends with people from all across the world; some of whom are now my best friends and who I am going to miss more than the city itself.



London, you've been incredible, and I will miss you the moment the wheels of the plane leave your ground, but it's time to go home for now. I am looking forward to seeing my family, my friends and my socially retarded dog.

Last word goes to Samuel Johnson:

She that brings to London a mind well prepared for improvement, though she misses her hope of uninterrupted happiness, will gain in return an opportunity of adding knowledge to vivacity, and enlarging innocence to virtue.