A return to London. After a long stint at home, it’s always a little difficult in the first few days and weeks to fall into that London routine, where queueing, long commutes and spending over five pounds for a pint are a daily occurrence.
I always end up inexplicably missing the comfort of the hills and the sea. They are a constant when everything thing is in momentum, a steady reminder of home and of things bigger than myself. I always crave the presence of the horizon, of sunsets and sunrises framing the day, of seeing more than just a thin strand of sky.
In London, you can only see the horizon if you are on the river, the thin winding ribbon that threads itself through the blocky patchwork of houses and offices of the city. It’s at night, while walking back from work, that I can remember what I love about the city… London at night.