I was supposed to visit London twice this week, but due to poor Busby catching the dreaded Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease I had to cancel my Tuesday trip as she was absent from Nursery. To be honest I was rather grateful for this excuse as it has been utterly sweltering, and after spending the day in London yesterday and melting (Wicked Witch of the West style), I’m not sure I could have survived two days in the capital in one week!
I’ve come to the conclusion that I really dislike London.
making pushing my way through the crowds of Oxford Street on Thursday I found myself wondering why, as a teenager and early-twenty-something, I would actually choose to come up to central London and visit. I still understand my love of visiting The Royal Court and their bookshop – that makes sense, but central London (Oxford Circus etc)? How is that ever a good idea?
I find London so overpopulated; constantly busy, constantly fast-paced, constantly rude. A perpetual whirl of people – worker drones – going through their daily rigmarole for the pursuit of money.
At the grand old age of 26 I have come to the conclusion that my city days are over.
I enjoy the peace and tranquility of the countryside.
I like that I can’t get food 24/7… and this has assisted the postpartum weight loss magnificently!
I love that I can wander down country lanes with Busby and not bump into anyone. Not meet a single soul.
I relish in the bird song and the gentle hum of buzzing bees as we adventure, hand-in-hand, to the park.
I’ll happily take fresh air over smog any day.
If we do move to Yorkshire I think this is what I will enjoy the most; the space, the scenery and in someways, the isolation. Who’d have thought this Brightonian Mama would turn into a country bumpkin?