I’ve visited London many times, but now that I’ve spent some decent time there, does it still carry the same attraction?
London has always had a very raw, emotional effect on me. Hailing from ‘up North’, it’s always been a very humbling experience. I still maintain that in London, everything’s bigger and better. We have the Tyne, they have the Thames. We have the Metro, they have the Tube, We have Jesmond Dene, they have Hyde Park. We have Fenwicks. they got Harrods (And Fenwicks)…. and all the rest. We have the Theatre Royal, they have a whole area devoted to Theatre and ditto guitar shops (Denmark Street). In fact, ditto everything, as London seems to group themes in an orderly, easily navigable fashion, even down to fancy cake shops just off Leicester Square.
Of course, this is the Capital city of England, and that’s the way it should be. It can’t be covered and appreciated in a day, and even after a few days, I’m still daunted by it. The sheer scale of the show-stopping architecture, crammed in tight amongst the city streets. The love and pride that seems to go into its upkeep. The sense of occasion, and of being at the centre of operations for the whole of the British Isles. This is where decisions are made. This is where the real power and money resides.
I’ve always been drawn to London. Professionally, it’s the final stop on the rat race to success. Who wouldn’t want to make it in the best city in the World? Well, for a fleeting moment, I recently got a taste of what life would be like in the big smoke…
Firstly, the obvious. No-one but Royalty or the super-rich are likely to call the very centre of London home. For the vast majority, it’s cheaper accomodation on the outskirts and a tube ride, and that’s just not fun or convenient. But it’s not just the journey, having all those people hit town at the same time twice a day creates a mad rush I have no interest in dealing with. It’s all a bit intense, self-centered and humorlous. For the first time ever, I felt myself racking up a point in the win column for good old North Shields, where it’s comparatively chilled and cheery.
Still, marching down Kingsway felt good. I was brimming with career accomplishment and that well-known human need of ‘ significance’ I’d been missing out on lately. Here I was, shoulder to shoulder with the big boys, off to our Skyscrapers, but I got distracted, where did the wealth of our magnificent backdrop come from? The Empire right? Our history of dominance and power in the world, now crystalized and celebrated in our Royal Fanily. True, I’ve never been a Royalist, but nowhere is the stench of elitism more prevalent than this exact spot.
I could feel the pendulum swing from admiration to a general disdain, and even started to find a certain humour in the overbearing seriousness of it all. This place was getting exhausting, so I headed for a favourite spot of mine by the fountains of Trafalgar Square. Here, the crowds aren’t so bad, and you have a fantastic view all around, even down to Downing Street, Big Ben and The Houses of Parliament. Maybe I was hasty in my Judgment. London still packs a punch, London still delivers. Then I headed to Leicester Square.
Here, my doubts came home to roost. Not only is London too hectic, it’s too full. Unlike Trafalgar Square, things can’t be appreciated whilst pushing through crowds, whilst dealing with the incessant din of fellow tourists. Also, with the highly stacked buildings, similar-looking streets, and design ethos of cramming everything into the square mile, I found it suprisingly quiet easy to take a wrong turn and lose my bearings. Very strange.
When the clock ticked time to go back to Kings Cross, I reverted back into reflection mode. London is an attack on the senses. A boiling pot of people, cultures, sounds, smells and sights. It’s proud of its heritage, Its Family, and its Sons and Daughters (On today’s menu we have the Beckams and Dua Lipa emblazoned everywhere). It’s rich and shouty about it.
But the things is, I get no love from London. It doesn’t care for you. It can take or not take your money, no difference, they don’t even bother with the big sell. I made no impact at all, feeling like I’d just bounced off the surface of a glass globe, admiring from afar, but not really encouraged to dig deeper.
Back on the train home and three delays in because of a fatal accident, a man complained his (short) journey to Peterborough had been delayed from his own selfish bubble. As If to to prove a point, I give up my seat to an old Lady. Curiously, that was the best I felt for the entire trip.
Returning home from London has always felt really flat. Back to life in the slow lane and zero mental stimulation. But today was different, because, as I’ve discovered, life isn’t a race, it not about being bigger, better, or having more money. Sometimes we just need to slow down and smell the roses. I don’t want to be that man on the train, or those marching down Kingsway, or crammed onto the tube. All I want is quality of life, some joy, some laughs, bumpng into a friend in the pub and someone actually caring.
All of those things are right here, along with miles and miles of beautiful coastline (that’s at least another two entries in the win column for North Shields).
