I once read an article about that strange feeling of returning to a city where you once used to live. To discover that this city has not been preserved in some kind of time bubble. That life in this city has moved on. Your friends have made new friends, filling that small hole your departure might have left. Shops have shut or moved. Restaurants have come and gone. How odd this is, whether or not this city has a special place in your heart or whether you were in fact glad to leave it when you did. It feels like I have spent most of my twenties either moving to London or moving away from London. After university and law school there I spent some time in Germany, working in a law firm to save up enough cash to travel around Argentina and Chile for a few months (which, incidentally is where I met Alessandro). I came back to London
These last few weeks in London before the big move are flying by. It’s scary really that in a few short weeks my morning walk to work will no longer take me through Exmouth Market (and the ever tough decision whether to get my morning flat white at Caravan or to hold out till I get to Leather Lane where I can choose between coffee from the Department of Coffee and Social Affairs or Prufrock Coffee) but instead I will be meandering right through Rome’s historic centre, passing the Trevi fountain and the Spanish steps. At the same time it is also incredibly exciting. Although I have spent a lot of time in Italy since meeting Alessandro 5 years ago, I know that living in Italy will be a totally different experience and I cannot wait to start exploring Rome and get to know the city that will be my home for the next 6 months. Nonetheless, leaving London is hard.