I recently spoke to a friend about animating my first couple months in London. This led me down a rabbit hole reminding me of what I had previously written about London, only two months into living here. I just wanted to reflect back on that two years later and share it more widely.
I was speaking to a friend recently about my 2 months in London. After that conversation I decided I would like to document my thoughts from this time for both myself and any others who cared.
I have spent most of my life abroad. I was born in South Africa, lived in Swaziland, but spent the majority of my childhood in Dubai - whilst spending most summers in France. My parents now live in Jamaica, most of my family lives in Scotland, excluding a brother in Dubai, and some family in Canada. Confusing?
Imagine how I feel. Regardless, my dilemma over identity and placehood in British society is an interesting discussion for another time.
I moved to London in June 2022, as most young people after university do, to work my first job. This move has exposed me to a world of experiences that most take for granted.
London is an absolutely fascinating place, it is inarguably the city of the United Kingdom with almost 10 million people (The city is a primate city, which is a fascinating concept). As a result, you as an individual sink into the background.
Nowhere best illustrates this to me than Piccadilly Circus on a weekend. The claustrophobic levels of people going about their day always begs the question of what do people really do?
You can honestly spend your whole life watching people, whilst trying to guess what is happening in their lives. You will have an almost out of body experience placing yourself in the shoes of every passer-by.
This ridiculous number of people, gives one the anonymity of the crowd. From people screaming at the top of their lungs, to those dancing on the tube, to the musicians in Green Park station. The sheer size of London means you will probably never see these people again.
On one hand this is freeing, no one cares what you do. So if you look awful, are sad, don’t want to talk to people, or as some do have a breakdown on the tube. No one really cares.
But this is the crux of a problem I have with London. No one really cares. I (as a non-Londoner) like to generally smile and sometimes have a conversation with strangers. I feel like it’s just a way of maintaining a bit of humanity. Yet in London most of the time a smile is meet with a blank (at best) or aggressive (at worst) expression.
The worst place for this I think is the Tube. No matter what line you are on at 8am, every person on that train shuts down and seeks comfort in their shell. Talking to anyone is a quick way to get your self ostracised.
Early on in my time in London, I remember there was a man who as far as I could tell spent his whole day on the tube going carriage to carriage, singing, and telling all the passengers to have a smile. That is one of the times I have truly seen a whole train of commuters open up.
Yet in contrast to that perception of the Tube of the morning, it is also one of those places that truly represents the heart of London. You will have the young professional solemnly traveling to work. But you will also see the young family out for the day, the group of friends laughing at a joke, lovers embracing, the ever present dog that brightens up everyones day.
In the heart of it all there is always romance to London. Something that I never experienced growing up abroad in a city without a soul.