London is ...
Raining, maybe not at the moment like it was earlier this morning but it will again soon enough. For a city so gray and cold for most of the year, it amazes me how vibrant and bustling it always remains. Riding around the tube I feel completely comfortable like I’ve finally figured it out, like I’ve finally figured this city out. That is until something happens that completely catches me off guard.
I think my problem is that I compare London to everything I’ve learned and everything I know. When I call home I describe Piccadilly Circus as the Times Square, Camden Markets as the Canal Street, and Chelsea as the Upper East Side. Only this is London not New York and perhaps when I stop needing to find parallels I will stop being caught off guard.
London is simultaneously old and new. Walking around you see a Mercedes 2009, whipping past the remains of a wall over 1500 years old. While I have spent years studying European history, actually seeing such old relics of the past intrinsically woven among new architecture never ceases to amaze me.
For these reasons I’m not quite sure how to describe London. I’m trying to remember how I described Costa Rica when I came back home last summer. The truth is I just told people that I loved all of it; the people, the places, the culture. That seemed efficient enough because describing your love for someplace is like trying to describe your love for someone, there just simply aren’t enough words.