One Month In London

Brixton, near Brixton Station

Can I tell you a secret?  I don’t know what to say when people ask me when I moved to London.  I got on a plane on April first, and to me, that departure is the key point.  But I arrived on the second; my first night here was the night of the second. So maybe the clearest way to say it is, “I moved on the first, and got here on the second.”  Something like that.

I suppose that I also like saying that I moved on the first, because it was April Fool’s Day.  In Tarot, the card “The Fool” represents a beginning. This may be a beginning where one is not entirely sure of what’s in the near future. This move has been quite a lot like that.  My company asked me if I would be willing to move in July of last year.  And as I’ve had an aspiration to work abroad for many years, I quite enthusiastically said yes.  But the details of pretty much every part of this move have been fuzzy.  And I feel like I didn’t give full thought to what that would entail (for example: the loss of friends; the difficulty of sorting through a decade’s worth of acquired possessions). This move was also tricksy since the date kept shifting.  First I was to go in November.  Then January.  Finally, April 1st was settled on as the date.  And here we circle back to: I moved to London on April 1st.

It’s been an eventful month: I spent 4 weeks living in an Airbnb in Brixton, and ended up renting a flat in Edgware. I’ve ridden busses and the tube to the point where I can at least make basic commutes without help.  I’ve walked a lot of steps, eaten a load of scones, and reconnected with some old friends.

So far, I like it. I’m hoping that I’ll find much more to love now that I’m settled.