London

This is my 10th year in London, the brash, alluring, cruel, sexy giant of a city. Almost 10 years ago, I left my adoptive (and forever second) home - the wondrous dollhouse village Amsterdam. 
 
I dreamed of coming to the jungle that is London and here I am - almost a Londoner. I feel love for this mesmerising jungle, a love that’s fed by the many songs of innocence and songs of experience I sang and heard. 
I am the (almost) Londoner who sheds a tear down the tube escalators and smiles at street musicians as he jumps over puddles of rain, then sighs at the sight of bird ensembles pirouetting above black cabs. 
 
Like the half-opaque buildings in this photograph, there is always more to excite and lure in this jungle. The beating heart of the West End on Saturday night, the soul-nourishing cheer of the farmers markets on a spring morning, the weathered hands of the homeless, the kindness of strangers, the dead pigeon splattered across the asphalt, the dawn of a new beginning…it’s all part of the deal.
 
I wanted to man up and grow a thicker skin but I ended up shedding several skins. I secretly hoped to become more cynical but I ended up returning to the hopeful romantic and mediaeval warrior I was designed to be. And almost 10 years later, I feel rooted in this fascinating sea of shifting sand…London.
 

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