Well. When they tell you there’s a honeymoon period to things, they would be right. Living in London for the last 3 1/2 weeks has been a honeymoon period. But the last week or so, I’ve felt like flinging my flip-flops, or my champagne glass, or whatever it is a person on honeymoon would fling at London’s head.
I’ve had a few days of missing home. More like missing how easy things were at home. Need groceries? Get in the car and go to the store, hold and feel and touch the items you want to buy. See very clearly what you are buying and the size of it so you don’t end up with something labeled ‘pizza dough balls’ that end up being garlic bread rolls when you order online.
The online shopping I used to so love? Not so much anymore. It’s very hard to understand (for me) what I’m buying. I’m not a metric messiah, and we can forget trying to figure out a recipe in metric and grams to get it relate to tablespoons and cups. I miss my cookbooks. If I had it to do over again I would have put them in the air shipment. Like for real.
And t-shirts. I seem to have only packed 5. During a heat wave. In London.
You have to think very carefully every morning just how much laundry you can get done. The washers size isn’t the only limiting factor, but there is only one drying rack that everything must fit on. More than two loads and you’ll be hanging shirts over the dining room chairs and ironing board and every available surface (been there).
When living in a flat, even with a small balcony and faux grass patch your dog won’t pee on, you will be a slave to the 3-4 daily walks in the park, rain, shine or otherwise. I have to say that oh.my.gosh think about how much exercise I’m getting! wears off after about two weeks. I’ve given up caring whether I walk the dog in my pjs with a sloppy ponytail and no makeup.
If you heard stories of a monster walking in Hyde Park around 7 am, don’t panic, it was only me.
I miss my yard, where I just had to open the door and the dog went out, and that was that.
There are definitely things I would do differently if we could do it again. I still have NAUGHT interest in driving here. Never. Ever. But living in a quieter area, on a quieter less touristy street where no hoards of teenagers walk around yelling, and no tour busses idle during your morning coffee would definitely be nice. So would neighbors on the floor below who don’t like pop music every afternoon at 4.
The Tube is nuts and hot and busy, but it doesn’t bother me. The buses are the same but I don’t mind it. We’ve been to the ZSL Zoo, the British Museum, the British Library. We’ve walked around the area of Tower of London, crossed London Bridge (or whatever it is actually called), gone to the movies, explored shops and found a few foodie favorites.
Right now, London and I are in a love/hate relationship. I hope soon enough it’ll turn into a love/slightly dislike relationship. Probably once my bed arrives next month and I can stop sleeping on a mattress that’s the equivalent of sleeping on plywood.
That would be nice.