Stranger in a strange land

There have been no blog entries in the past few days as I've been down south in the big smoke catching up with old friends during a long weekend. It's proven an odd experience. Having lived in London for two years before setting off travelling I return to find myself like a complete stranger there. Although I know all the places there's no sense of homeliness or familiarity with what I associate with normality. It makes me wonder that whether this has always been the case and that sharing a flat with a friend merely obscured the fact.

As one of my friends correctly noted "you have a love - hate relationship with London". It's true enough. London's a place that has repeatedly driven me away and attracted me back, although currently I don't feel at all compelled to return to live there. It's a place where I tried to lead a life of others' expectations but not follow my own way.

There is a certain pressure to move to London in that it's seen as the single place in the UK where it's all going on, and this is continually hammered home by the London-centric media which never ceases to extol the virtues of the capital and the glorious lives that each of its writers is living therein. I've heard of many from around these parts who have tried their luck down south and stuck it for varying periods before in many cases giving it up in favour of alternatives. London in some ways is an extreme option. There are a great many opportunities at hand but the sacrifices required in cost of living, quality of living and density of population around you aren't inconsiderable.

The process of self-discovery is proving to be a long one. I'd have thought that I'd have this all done and dusted years ago, however it wasn't to be. Exactly what it best intended for me is not yet entirely clearly but the fog seems to be gradually lifting.