And no, I’m not talking about Erin!

The end of March (25th, to be exact) was the anniversary of my move to London four years ago. Every year it comes around I can never quite believe it’s been so long, and it always makes me think a bit about how much my life has changed since then.

Warning: slightly sentimental post ahead.

Comparing my social life from, say, 5 years ago to now and it’s like they’re being lived by two different people. Deep down I’m still the reclusive introvert but that’s no longer a limitation, just a feature. My life is filled with interesting goings-ons and it’s rare that a week goes by without some (or more likely, multiple) social events. These days I’m in the slightly ridiculous position of sometimes literally needing to book “home time” into my calendar if I feel like I need a break rather than that being the default.

When I first arrived in London I was first lucky enough to meet Erin and then be almost instantly adopted into the mainly-Australian circle that she was part of. One of the scariest things about moving to a new city is the fear of not knowing anyone so falling into this ready-made group was unspeakably lucky. Now, four years on, many/most of that extended group have moved on or back to Australia, such being the fate of those on two-year visas. When that exodus started a couple of years back I was actually quite worried for a while; would we be able to find new friends? The answer to that was clearly a resounding “yes”, with a bit of work, and now if anything I feel like we’re surrounded by an even richer more varied group than ever.

Aesthetically I’m still completely enamoured with London. On my morning runs I can never resist looking towards the city skyline as I run over the nearby bridge, and have taken photo after photo from that vantage – it’s just a pity the power lines kinda mar it. I’m constantly surprised by the sights I encounter while walking around central London; just the other day I came around a corner, looked up, and there was St Paul’s – always an impressive sight. Pictures and paintings of the London skyline are always likely to tug at me, and our only “proper, real” piece of art in the house is a stylistic piece based on the London tube lines.

Speaking of the tube, I’m one of the perhaps minority of Londoners who thinks it’s awesome. I know that I’m spoiled when I turn up to a random station and feel impatience if the next train is more than a couple of minutes away.

And yes, I’m definitely a Londoner now. I mean, I can identify with most of the things on this list, for example. And ditto for things that annoy me – #5 in particular, I swear to god … – and I’d add that there’s nothing trivial about the things on that list.

The sense of history that imbues London is sometimes incredible. Random plaques in unexpected places hinting at the past, for example today I was in one of the British Library buildings which was apparently where Isaac Newton once lived.

Centuries-old buildings, each with their own long stories, and erected in an age where “impressive” and “imposing” were important attributes; see the British Museum for a fine example. It’s perhaps to my benefit for some of this that I’m Irish rather than British – I can feel pride and awe at some of these things without feeling any of the imperialist guilt that would sometimes be invoked.

I’m a Londoner but one thing I need to make sure to keep doing is to also be a tourist. I’ve seen a lot of historical and interesting places here but there’s so much left to see. It’s far too easy to fall into the common trap of only being a tourist when you travel when there are still things right here to experience, and I have to admit that our sightseeing has definitely slowed down over the last couple of years. Ditto for exploring the various green areas on the outskirts, actually; there are some wonderful walking routes and we need to get back on the horse (erm, feet) and do some more of them.

We’re now lucky enough to own a house in London – at least, with the permission of the bank – and unlike most people these days this is a house that we never intend to sell. Setting roots in a place like this, and it feeling so right, is excellent. Undoubtedly we’ll live in other cities for periods of our lives but I think here is where we’ll always return.

London, dear London; I’m home.