23 hours of travel time, £1,500, 2 hostels and 5 days later, I think I have finally found ‘home’. Remember some of the quaint, quirky homes in those small, off the map towns in Italy? It’s as cosy as that; but plonked in central London.
The apartment has soaked up the smells of the city over the countless decades; the smog, the metallic scent of brass from surrounding buildings, the pop up stores and street food vendors. The occasional draughts from nearby Chinatown in the evenings reminds me of the cheap Chinese we used to go to in Box Hill.
Moving was easy. I only had my backpack. That was lucky because having to bring the furniture up three flights of narrow stairs would have been a nightmare. Having said that, the stairs are the most gorgeous deep, antique blue – but thousands of hopeful travellers and shakey removalists have chipped most places bare. I kind of like it though – gives the places that “I’ve-been-around-for-centuaries” feel that I came to London for…
Kritz, I think I’m home.