So says my mother, when I said I must say "so long" to every brick and cobblestone of Londontown before I go. Maybe. But 1) I am melodramatic, and 2) it doesn't make the sentiment any less true.
I moved here in 2008 because my love affair with the city was not over. I had not been ready to leave when I moved to Vancouver in September 2005. The excitement and the flutter I got inside passing through Piccadilly Circus, walking alongside the Thames on the Southbank, sitting in Leicester Square, joining the crowds in Shoreditch on a Saturday night, sitting on the back of Edy's bike, idling on the Victoria Embankment waiting for Big Ben to chime-I couldn't escape it. Vancouver and all its sensible qualities - incomparable standard of living, work/life balance, proximity to family, not to mention its stunning natural beauty - well, it all fell short and didn't have the sparkle of London. I came back to London to recapture that. I was in love with a city, and settling anywhere else felt like adultery.
As I have blogged ad nauseum, the working culture, the freefall of the recession, the difficult parts of living in a city this size - well, it eventually made it difficult for London and I to get along. And while I will always love London, I'm no longer in love. The initial thrill is gone. I see its shortcomings, and this has dulled the brilliance of the qualities that originally attracted me to the place. I realised it the other night, waiting for the boat home, as tourists excitedly asked me to take their picture in front of Tower Bridge. Every day, I stand on the wharf at Tower Hill, looking at the very best parts of London, to the east, west and south. And I feel...nothing. The sense of history registers on an intellectual level, but the visceral, emotional response I used to get just from...well, being here, it's waned.
So it's time to move on, but it doesn't make the parting easy. The love will always be there. I am conscious that it may be some time before I return to London, and I feel certain that I will never live here again. When I visit it will be to hit the high points, not the "Londoner's London" that I was so eager to come back for. I have walked this city backwards and forwards. And it is those streets and sights that I need to say goodbye to. And yes, it will be sad. There will be a grieving process.
The upside? That flutter, and excitement that seem to have slipped through my fingers: well, I feel that way about Vancouver now. I have a new city to be in love with, a new energy to be fascinated by.
I moved here in 2008 because my love affair with the city was not over. I had not been ready to leave when I moved to Vancouver in September 2005. The excitement and the flutter I got inside passing through Piccadilly Circus, walking alongside the Thames on the Southbank, sitting in Leicester Square, joining the crowds in Shoreditch on a Saturday night, sitting on the back of Edy's bike, idling on the Victoria Embankment waiting for Big Ben to chime-I couldn't escape it. Vancouver and all its sensible qualities - incomparable standard of living, work/life balance, proximity to family, not to mention its stunning natural beauty - well, it all fell short and didn't have the sparkle of London. I came back to London to recapture that. I was in love with a city, and settling anywhere else felt like adultery.
As I have blogged ad nauseum, the working culture, the freefall of the recession, the difficult parts of living in a city this size - well, it eventually made it difficult for London and I to get along. And while I will always love London, I'm no longer in love. The initial thrill is gone. I see its shortcomings, and this has dulled the brilliance of the qualities that originally attracted me to the place. I realised it the other night, waiting for the boat home, as tourists excitedly asked me to take their picture in front of Tower Bridge. Every day, I stand on the wharf at Tower Hill, looking at the very best parts of London, to the east, west and south. And I feel...nothing. The sense of history registers on an intellectual level, but the visceral, emotional response I used to get just from...well, being here, it's waned.
So it's time to move on, but it doesn't make the parting easy. The love will always be there. I am conscious that it may be some time before I return to London, and I feel certain that I will never live here again. When I visit it will be to hit the high points, not the "Londoner's London" that I was so eager to come back for. I have walked this city backwards and forwards. And it is those streets and sights that I need to say goodbye to. And yes, it will be sad. There will be a grieving process.
The upside? That flutter, and excitement that seem to have slipped through my fingers: well, I feel that way about Vancouver now. I have a new city to be in love with, a new energy to be fascinated by.