I haven’t written my blog for ages, 4 months to be exact. Daily life and loss of will overwhelmed my ability to get fingers to the keyboard, and the weeks stretched into months. I assumed, when I thought of it at all, that it was to be a project left unfinished. But I was wrong. I was simply on a break, waiting for new inspiration. And the creative among you will know that inspiration is a funny and fickle ole gal. Never can be sure what she has in store…and this time it was spite. With a very generous dollop of pride. Oh London, ours is a love affair of grand gesture. And I am ready once again to chronicle every chapter of our romance.
Recently, someone from my forgotten past told me he was coming to London and bringing his girlfriend and her offspring. They are people my mother and I call “white trash.” And their entire world view is formed of what they (obsessively) watch on reality television programs. No culture save what they imagine to be in low-end high street shops. A sad existence, perhaps, but a familiar one in parts of my country. (It is a big country; we have all sorts; don’t sneer.) I predicted that they would not enjoy London. Ha ha ha. I was so right. And more so. They HATED London. Everything about it. In fact the word used was they “raged” about London. (For those of you reading quickly, I wrote “rage” with a “g”, NOT “rave” with a “v”.)
And my heart about burst with pride. Granted, the week they were here it rained non-stop and everything that could have gone wrong logistically did. But I don’t believe that was a coincidence. Not at all.
London is the greatest city on earth. And when it wants to it can turn on the charm and dazzle in ways you didn’t think possible. It is also a strong city. It has the balls to stick two fingers up and say “get the fuck out,” to the unappreciative and unworthy. Respect. Proper respect.
So I am more determined than ever to write about my City. Not just to spite the ignorant, but London deserves to have adoration, even my feeble attempts, in print, regardless if the only person who reads my blog is my mother (who loves London, by the way.) Happy for it to be just an aide memoire of my time here, because oh oh oh what a time it is!!! I’m back. And more passionate than ever.
(just wait til I tell you what happened next…the love is mutual…at least in my besotted mind…)
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